The Best Laid Plans
by Lizzie9
Summary: They were inevitable, the exception to the rule. Tony wished they didn't have to define their relationship hunting terrorists in the South American jungle with Gibbs and the FBI, but that was so Tony and Ziva. Tiva, a tough case and a psycho after Ziva.
1. Chapter 1

**And here it is. The inspiration for this one came from a variety of sources, our recent trip to South America among them. Basically, as you'll read, this is a Tony and Ziva know its going to happen, but Gibbs, case and hijinks ensue as they work it out story. **

**Pleeeeeease, pleeeeease, pleeeeease, review. **

"The best laid plans of mice and men go oft awry." -Robert Burns, 1785

Tony couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips as his phone vibrated. It was an illogical reaction to be sure; Memorial Day had just passed and already D.C. felt like a swamp. Heat beat down from the sun all day, and even at night humidity cloaked the District, choking any semblance of a breeze. On top of that, Gibbs was ready to kill someone. Tony was actually surprised he hadn't snapped and taken that impulse out on him yet.

They had missed a chance to nab a narco-terrorist smuggling weapons to Latin and Central America on Navy ships, with an operation based abroad, ties to a DC branch of a cartel and a whisper of did they or didn't they get into bed with al-Qaeda, igniting an epic struggle with the CIA and the FBI for jurisdiction. Tony wasn't sure if you could have an aneurism from too many head slaps but he was prepared for the possibility, and instructed McGee to be on the lookout for tell tale signs of head trauma.

The battle was raging between Gibbs, Fornell, and some CIA spook that Gibbs had (not surprisingly) taken an immediate dislike to, and it was unclear who was winning. They had the advantage of the dead sailor who the smuggler had killed on a slab in autopsy, but Vance had instructed Ducky not to cut until World War Three was over and a victor emerged. Hence Gibbs being ready to kill someone.

Even so, his grin only widened as Tony flipped open his phone and read Ziva's text message. _On my way, see you in five, with a good story. _

Tony began typing a reply, still grinning, but stopped when he felt eyes on him. He quickly completed the text while exerting a superhuman effort to suppress his grin, and could feel his friend's eyes rolling at him across the table.

When Tony flipped the phone shut and looked up, he was greeted by a shit eating grin on his best friend's face. Nick had been with Tony in Baltimore, before getting a law degree and signing on with the Justice Department.

"Jesus, DiNozzo, its boy's night and you've been on that phone the whole time. Who could you possibly be texting this much, when the only two people who tolerate you are here?" Nick asked, elbowing their friend Eric.

A few years ago, boy's night was a much more frequent occurrence for Tony, and usually involved a whole bunch of guys still in their fraternity mindsets, too many shots, and ended with accompanying a young blonde home. These days, boys' night out was pretty much restricted to a few beers with Nick and Eric, who were both married.

"Gentlemen," Tony said, grinning again, "We have a guest coming."

"A female guest." Eric said, smirking at Nick. They were used to Tony's exploits; the girls seemed to get younger as Tony got older, but lately his most notorious womanizer friend had been coming out and going home alone. Eric and Nick had been speculating what this meant; either he was finally off his game, or there was someone serious. As much fun as he and Nick has living vicariously through Tony's tales of bachelorhood, Eric hoped, for his friend's sake, that it was someone serious.

"You're not wrong Miccarelli. Sharp as ever, really." Tony said. He took a sip from his beer and shrugged, nonchalantly, as if it wasn't a big deal. "Ziva's coming."

Nick coughed, practically choking on his drink. "Ziva? Ziva, your partner Ziva?"

Tony nodded. "The one and only." He confirmed taking another sip and flipping his phone open so his eyes wouldn't betray how excited he was.

"Oh man, come _on_!" Eric exclaimed, causing Tony to look up. Eric, however, was addressing Nick. "How do you _always_ do that?" He turned to Tony accusingly. "Does he have you wearing a wire?"

Tony blinked twice at his friends and cocked his head to the side, confused. "Not that I know of." He said slowly, wondering when they planned to let him in on the joke.

Nick sat back, finished his beer and signaled for another round. Tony was beginning to see the smug satisfaction found in someone who just realized they were right about something. "Anthony, do you realize the significance of this?" Nick asked, "Historically, a female at boy's night only happens when we want to introduce someone we anticipate dating for more than five minutes, and get our friends approval."

"Notice how the last two females who made an appearance at this event became our wives." Eric pointed out with a smirk.

Tony was about to open his mouth to protest; they weren't dating, she was just his partner. As soon as the words came, he knew it was pointless to say them. He and Ziva had seemingly reached a mutual understanding that it was going to happen sooner or later. They had even sort of talked about it, a few weeks ago, when she barged into the men's room one afternoon.

"_I changed my mind about something." She said, stepping inside and locking the door behind her, the same way she always did, like it was perfectly normal for her to accost him in the one place in the entire building women were restricted from. Tony realized that after all the confrontations, arguments, and apologies they had in bathrooms, it kind of was normal, for the two of them at least._

"_And you couldn't wait to share this revelation until I exited the men's room, Zee-vah?" he asked, although he was glad to see her, anywhere._

"_It is important," she said. It was then that Tony realized she looked… nervous. He swallowed; suddenly afraid it was going to be bad news. Something along the lines of I've changed my mind about this whole America thing. See you. She took a tentative step towards him._

"_Zi, what it is?" He asked, his voice sounding more strained than he intended. "Is something wrong?" He gazed at her, as if by the sheer force of a trademark Anthony DiNozzo look, he could force this to be good news. _

_She ignored him and forged ahead. "Remember in autopsy, after Jenny died?" she asked, her eyes locked on his, as if she was willing him to see something in her gaze. Tony nodded, wondering where this was headed. _

"_That night," Ziva continued, taking a deep breath, "I told you that nothing is inevitable."Tony nodded, suddenly realizing how the space between them had disappeared, and wondered who had moved them this close together, who had taken the steps. "I have changed my mind. Some things are inevitable, no matter how hard you fight them." She said. _

_Tony understood what she wanted him to read in her eyes and as he dared to believe he was right, a slow smile spread across his face, confirming to her this had been the right decision. She leaned in and gave him a slow kiss on the cheek, then the lips. _

Since then, it was understood between them; they had been heading in that direction for years, and the mutual agreement that the destination was in the near future was what kept him grinning and whistling Sinatra in the bullpen all the time. Frankly he was enjoying the back and forth they were engaged in, a new kind of teasing, Tony and Ziva flirt fest 2.0. No longer were they in each other's space for the sake of power, amusement, or one upping, they were pushing one another to see who would push the other against the wall and simultaneously tear their clothes off while making declarations of love. Okay, that would be him, Ziva was way too controlled to do both at once, but either way, Tony knew they were in a good place.

"And since you're clearly not protesting," Nick continued, breaking Tony's inner monologue, "You're either dating Ziva, or anticipating dating Ziva." He turned triumphantly to Eric and held out his open palm. "Which means I'm right and have been all along; you're in love with Ziva. And Eric owes me twenty bucks."

Tony couldn't help but laugh as Eric begrudgingly handed Nick a few bills. The exchange was completed, and the waitress had delivered another round to the table when Tony realized he hadn't bothered to deny it, because Nick was right. He was in love with Ziva. _No kidding DiNozzo_, he thought. Of course he was, and he knew it too, consciously, it was something he was aware of. But this was the first time he thought it without any accompanying unpleasant feelings. Because he had to forgive himself the cliche and admit he had a gut feeling it was going to work out. He was ready; ready to commit, ready to give her all the time she'd take. "It's not so scary when you finally think it." He murmured to himself.

He looked up to twin quizzical expressions on his friends faces and was decided whether or not he should admit it out loud when Nick's eyes bugged out of his head and Eric's jaw dropped. Tony didn't have time to turn around before Ziva plopped down in the booth next to him, grabbed his beer and took a long sip. She smiled and extended her hand, politely ignoring the way his friends were staring. "Ziva David."

They both murmured their names and shook her hand, and then sat, Nick blinking, and Eric rubbing his chin thoughtfully, both of his friends trying to work out how _Tony_, who had once developed an age to measurement ratio for selecting women had gotten so much as two words out of someone like Ziva.

"I'm going to get another round." She said tactfully, rising and heading toward the bar, giving Tony time to answer his friends questions. He watched her walk away, admiring the way her hips swung, and feeling like this just might be the greatest summer ever.

He looked at his friends and chuckled, knowing full well that whatever they were expecting it was not this. Tony had to admit that a few years ago, he would have agreed. Hell, he'd been floored enough to find out that someone like Ziva- beautiful, intelligent, snarky, sexy and totally kick ass- actually existed, let alone bothered to give him the time of day. Even so, he pointed at his friends. "Use words." he instructed.

"You're serious about her aren't you?" Nick asked in a tone that let Tony know he wasn't about to make a joke. "She's not like your usual girl, Tony, she's…" he trailed off.

"An ex Mossad assassin?" Tony supplied helpfully.

"I forgot about that," Eric mused. "Surprising, given the six hundred times you mentioned it."

"What can I say?" Tony said, slightly sheepish. "She's not like my usual girl." Nick and Eric exchanged a pointed glance as Tony's eyes drifted to Ziva, who leaning against the bar, waiting for drinks. His expression had softened, and normally, they would give him all sorts of hell for it. Instead their eyes met in silent agreement. Despite all the shit he'd given them, they were willing to let it go.

* * *

They lingered after his friends retreated into the muggy DC night, and Tony took advantage of their time alone; with the case that was looming, they'd likely spend most of their upcoming days with Gibbs, McGee and the team. "Thought you were going home tonight?" Tony asked her lightly.

"Changed my mind." She shot back, casually, as another round was delivered to their table. Tony held up two fingers to the waitress in response. "Couldn't live without you, I guess." She said quietly. It was an echo of what they were dancing around, what he had said to her in Somalia months ago. The question she had always wanted to ask but never had. He shifted a little closer to her and found her gaze, daring her to ask now.

She simply knew it wasn't the right time, and smirked instead. "You left before we found the bomb in the building." She said. It took Tony a minute to adjust to this new, completely different line of conversation.

"There was a bomb in the building?" Tony repeated. Ziva nodded nonchalantly, and twisted her lips into another smirk. Tony watched, mesmerized, and allowed his mind to wander to all the other things she could do with those soft, full lips. Ziva, who seemed to be getting better at reading his mind darted her tongue out and licked her lips slowly enough to emphasize the innuendo in the gesture. Tony sucked in a breath and stared, content to let her win this round, since she was providing a thousand new Ziva fantasies he could go over at home tonight.

"Well, outside the building, but still on the base." She said, moving the focus back to the bomb.

"How do you get a bomb into the Navy Yard?" She smiled and took another sip, arching one eyebrow at him. "Well I know you could do it, but how does an average Joe do it?"

"Who is average Joe? Is he a character in a movie?" Her smile told him she was teasing him and he rewarded her cleverness with a grin. "It was," she continued," intended to bear the signature of someone associated with the Colombian rebel organization, FARC."

"Drug cartels." He remarked. "Just like Traffic."

She scrunched her nose in confusion, and it was just so damn cute, that Tony slung an arm around her. After physically holding himself back from kissing her, he noticed that she was leaning into the embrace, scooting herself closer to him. "What do Colombian rebels have to do with traffic?" She asked.

"Traffic. The movie. Michael Douglas? Catherine Zeta Jones? It's practically a classic, Zi."

"I have not seen it."

"I'll add it to our list." Tony told her. He removed the arm he had around her to grab his wallet from his back pocket, and Ziva felt a tug inside of her as carefully extracted the coffee receipt that served as the list of movies he wanted her to see.

He met her eyes as he tucked his wallet back into its place in his back left pocket. Her smile was a soft and genuine one, void of usual mischievousness. It was a serious smile, one Tony had seen turned his way a lot lately. Ziva had a catalogue of expressions, but only real ones reached her eyes. His blue gazed into her brown and he knew she meant what was getting at that day in the bathroom; they were inevitable. Her eyes seemed to soften the longer she looked at him, and it was enough to drive him to a mushy, breakdown, confession kind of place, and as eager as he was to cross the finish line and start making plans, the booth of a bar was not the place to get mushy. He settled with slinging his arm around her again, pulling her in closer this time.

"We will be eighty before we finish this list." She murmured quietly, looking down at her bottle.

"Fine by me." He told her. Her heart skipped a beat at his smile and she absently tapped a finger to her lips, trying to remember what they had been talking about.

"So how did the bomb squad ID the maker?" Tony asked, dragging her from fantasy land, and back to the real world, and the mess that was growing before them.

"They did not."

"But you said it was-"

"I was able to identify the relationship to FARC based on its structure, wiring and components. I was once assigned to a Mossad team responsible for tracking FARC members in Argentina. The bomb squad did not arrive until later."

Tony opened his mouth to ask who disarmed the bomb and then closed it. She smirked at him, looking smug. "Of course you did."

Her expression flickered into a less self satisfied one. "I got lucky." She admitted. Tony pretended to be hurt, then angry, quickly going through exaggerated expressions of each emotion.

"Was it McGee?" he asked. "Gibbs? Tell me you didn't get lucky with Fornell."

She smirked again, momentarily forgetting the very real, potentially very bad situation in front of them. "How do you know it was not with Abby?" she asked, putting her hand on his knee.

He groaned. "David, you can't tease me about stuff like that." He said, leaning toward her, invading her space, which used to mean taking his life in his hands, depending on what kind of mood she was in. Now, however, as she leered at him with an unmistakable glint in her eyes, he realized this was a welcome advance.

"There's only one person I am interested in getting lucky with." She murmured with a wink. Tony grinned even wider this time. Yup, this was definitely going to be the best summer ever.

* * *

Gibbs had enough nonsense. There were a lot of things that irritated him, that served to annoy, but one thing that really pissed him off was mindless politics standing in the way of an investigation, and his gut told him this was going to be a big investigation. The longer it took for NCIS, the FIB and the CIA to decide whose was bigger; who knows how far out of control the situation may have spiraled.

Their usual conference room proved insufficient for the task at hand, so Gibbs and Fornell found themselves in a bar, hoping to compromise over glasses of something strong. He was too frustrated to ask Fornell what brought the smirk to his face as they walked in, and by the time they were seated at the bar with glasses, he had forgotten about it.

"So how do we play this one, Jethro?" Fornell asked, sipping slowly. His eyes travelled past Gibbs, and then back, an expression Gibbs couldn't quite define on his face.

"We take control. CIA is only going to act too quickly. I think there's more to this than drug dealers," Gibbs admitted. Fornell nodded his agreement, and Gibbs continued. "If we're the first to compromise, our directors can edge out the Agency."

"I assume this is where you tell me this will be your investigation." Fornell said, getting déjà vu.

"Dead sailor. Not to mention someone is smuggling weapons on Navy ships." Gibbs said with a shrug.

"Uh huh." Fornell said, his gaze wandering again. "And conveniently, the body is in your morgue."

"Well yea, Tobias. We were the first ones at the crime scene."

"The crime scene was the Navy Yard." Fornell pointed out. Gibbs gave him a look, as if to thank him for proving the point he was arguing against. Fornell sighed. "Fine, NCIS leads."

"FBI will be in charge of arrangements if this takes us overseas, and you can even take the credit." Gibbs said with a smile.

"You see," Fornell said, draining his drink and signaling for two more, "That's your problem. Too quick to give away the credit." Gibbs just smiled and accepted his second drink.

"You want to tell me what you keep looking at Tobias?" he asked. Fornell jerked his head towards the back of the bar, and when Gibbs followed his gaze, a whole new kind of anger rose. They were Tony and Ziva, sitting in the same side of a booth, grinning at each other like idiots. Tony's arm was slung around Ziva, loosely, but there was something about the way they were leaning into each other that puts Gibbs on alert. It could have been casual, but he didn't need his famous gut to know better; working with them was enough.

"Oh hell." He muttered, sliding off of his stool. Fornell followed suit and slid into the booth across from Tony and Ziva, next to Gibbs. "You two don't play grabass enough at the office?" Gibbs asked. Fornell watched in amusement as the agents heads snapped toward them, their eyes widened, and they separated.

"Hey boss." Tony said cheerfully, like nothing was odd about this encounter. "Fornell."

"Dinutso, David. I'd say it's been too long, but that's impossible."

"What brings you two here?" Ziva asked, suddenly remembering her hesitations about the bomb, and eager to share them, even if it was only to cool the fire between her legs and get her focused in front of her boss.

"I'll take government agencies that are supposed to cooperate for six hundred, Alex." Tony quipped, earning a glare from Gibbs.

"It's our case now," Fornell answered, gesturing between himself and Gibbs.

"In that case," Ziva said, "I have something to say." She waited for the slight nod from Gibbs before continuing. "I do not think that bomb was planted by a member of FARC. The structure and components of the bomb were precise, but altered to look less professional. It was an imitation of FARC's style."

"Who would want to imitate drug dealers?" Fornell asked. Ziva swallowed and looked at Gibbs. They held each other's gaze, engaged in some kind of silent negotiation or battle that Tony didn't understand. Finally, he saw Gibbs give a slight nod.

"I have a theory on that." Ziva said immediately. "But I need twelve hours."

"You've got ten." Gibbs said.

"In that case…" Ziva trailed off, sliding out of the booth, making sure to brush her leg against Tony's as she did. She started to walk away, but turned back after a few feet. "I should probably warn you. If I am right, we will need passports."

Tony grinned at her, and watched her ass as she walked away, thinking about the possibilities of getting away to somewhere exotic. A little danger, some excitement, maybe Ziva in her bikini…and definitely Gibbs' hand connecting with the back of his head.

"Ouch." He muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for making us feel good about this one! We're really excited to keep writing, and have some interesting ideas of where to take it. **

**PLEEEEEASE Review. When you don't review, we get very insecure and turn to ice cream.**

"Zero six hundred," he muttered to himself, balancing the two coffees as he hit the up button for the elevator, "You are pathetic." Tony could pretend the reason he was arriving at work an hour early was because of the severity of their latest case, not to bring Ziva coffee, but there was no point in lying to himself. He knew she'd been working all night, and he was desperate to see her again, even though it had only been a few hours, so he set his alarm for an ungodly early hour and left his apartment before the sun was up.

He entered the squad room to find it empty, but her computer was on and her chair was pushed away from her desk, so he set the coffee next to her keyboard and waited. Sitting at his desk, going through the usual morning routine of turning on his computer and finding his favorite pen, Tony realized how happy he was.

"Tony!" Ziva called out, surprised. He looked up at her and took in her messy curls- it had been way too long since he had seen the curls- her tight fitted jeans, and for the love of all that was holy, his button down shirt. She was either really desperate for clothes, or trying to murder him with anticipation. His mind immediately went to the place where she was in that shirt and nothing else on his bed, those long legs stretched out, waiting to wrap around him...

Ziva smiled, almost unsure of what to do. He was looking at her. He was always looking at her; like he wanted to strangle her, like he wanted to kiss her, like he wanted to ravage her. But in this moment he was looking at her like he loved her. She smiled, almost shyly and gestured to his shirt. "Sorry," she said sheepishly, "I did not have time to go home for clothes."

Tony gave her his trademark mega watt grin and dropped a lazy wink at her. "It looks so much better on you." He told her, blatantly looking her up and down. She met his gaze with a sultry stare of her own; a twist of her lips in a half smile, a slight raise of one eyebrow, and the look she got when her eyes darkened and Tony knew her mind had gone to her dirty place. Tony' stomach tightened and coiled with butterflies and lust. She raised her arms over her head and stretched, but never dropped his gaze. Tony kept his locked on hers, wondering at what point he was going to have to vault over the desk and kiss her before he actually exploded when her phone rang.

"David." She answered, there was a pause, and she began a conversation back and forth in rapid fire Spanish Tony knew he could never follow, so he settled on watching her- intently- as she talked. The way those lips moved, and the way her eyes never stopped talking, even when she wasn't speaking; he was so screwed, and it would have terrified him, but he was too enraptured to care. Ziva turned her attention back to him as she wrapped up the call and said goodbye.

"This is for me?" she asked, pointing at the coffee, and picking it up to take a sip without waiting for a reply.

"Who was on the phone?" he asked, unable to help himself. She smirked and sipped again.

"You will find out soon enough." She said playfully, arching an eyebrow. Tony couldn't resist; he leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head.

"Very mysterious, Ziva," he said thoughtfully. "We should harness this unique skill of yours. Put all of that stealth to good use." She played along, thoughtfully tapping her index finger against her lips.

"What do you suggest?" she asked, her eyes travelling over his arms, unable to look at him sitting like that without imaging those arms around her.

"Well assassin and spy are obviously out."

Ziva waved her hand through the air and made a face to reflect boredom. "Been there, done that."

"Right. I'm thinking art heists. If anyone could break into a museum and walk out with a couple mil in priceless paintings and artifacts, it's totally you."

Ziva's face brightened. "Like the movie!" she exclaimed. "The uh, the sequel- the thief gets past all those lasers…." She trailed off, the title on the tip of her tongue. Tony was about to interject when she snapped her fingers. "Ocean's Twelve!"

Tony grinned. "Ziva David," he said, shaking his head, "You just made a movie reference. I'm proud of you, kiddo." She mocked a curtsy and offered a delicate wave.

"So this art heist venture? Would we sell it after I steal it?" she asked, earning another grin from Tony. He pretended to ponder this, rubbing his chin in a gesture of exaggerated thought.

"No, too risky," he concluded decisively. "It's so hard to move things on the Black Market these days. We'll just have really well decorated apartments."

"I'm in," Ziva said, without missing a beat. "Where should start? The Louve?" She immediately shook her head in answer to her own question. "No, the Uffizi gallery in Florence."

Tony leaned forward and slapped a hand on his desk. "Bingo! I'll book a flight."

"Going somewhere, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, strolling into the squad room. Tony shared a private smile with Ziva and stood up.

"Absolutely not boss."

Gibbs ignored him and looked at Ziva, who gave him a nearly imperceptible nod. "DiNozzo, wait here for McGee. When he decides to join us, I want you two in the Director's office. David, you're with me." Tony watched as they ascended the stairs, his brow furrowing when Fornell dashed out of the elevator and joined them.

* * *

Ziva found herself sitting around a table with Gibbs, Fornell and Vance, and they were all looking at her expectantly. "Shortly before coming to NCIS, I was assigned to a Mossad team in Colombia."

"What was the purpose of the mission?" Vance asked, leaning forward.

"To identify and track members of Hamas and al Qaeda who were gathering information to judge whether drug cartels would be allies, and how easily they could arrange for passage into the United States through drug routes."

Gibbs felt a familiar pull in his gut and he knew he had been right about this. There was much more going on than drug dealers smuggling weapons. Fornell started to speak, but Ziva shook her head.

"There is more," she said her tone grave. Vance nodded at her to continue. "I was assigned to one individual in particular."

"Hamas or al Qaeda?" Gibbs asked.

"We do not know. All we know about this man is what he looks like, that he is a Muslim, and certainly a terrorist, but perhaps not a jihadist."

"I didn't realize you could pick and choose." Fornell said, arching an eyebrow.

"He spent several years in Paris," Ziva continued, "And comes from a wealthy family. He drinks, he wears expensive clothes, and he has a hand in several business ventures." She took a deep breath. "He has sex with multiple women, he has girlfriends. He's eradicated everything about him that might make someone suspicious."

"What was the outcome of the mission?" Vance asked.

Ziva hesitated. "Nine years ago, I was assigned to seduce him, extract as much information as possible and then kill him. He is alive because we discovered he was in charge of establishing a relationship with Colombian cartels. The ultimate goal, we believed was to execute entry into the United States and a subsequent terrorist attack."

Ziva stopped talking abruptly, and Gibbs was surprised to see that she looked nervous. It was probably classified Mossad secrets that she was currently spilling, but Gibbs didn't get the sense that was bothering her. He met her gaze and sized her up, impressed for the hundredth time by the determination that showed as she maintained eye contact. "What does your gut tell you, Ziva?" he asked.

She paused for a minute before answering, choosing her words carefully. "He was… taken with me," she said slowly. "I believe if he knew where to find me…" she trailed off.

"We could put her undercover." Vance suggested.

"Well, yea, Leon," Gibbs said, suppressing an eye roll, "That's exactly what I was thinking." Ziva arched an eyebrow at Gibbs and met his eyes, but Fornell was shaking his head.

"I don't like it," he said firmly. "One agent undercover alone spells trouble."

Gibbs smiled. "Watch out Tobias. You'd hate for me to start thinking you care about my agents." Fornell snorted in response, but Vance was nodding.

"He's right. If we go in undercover, I want a team of two. Now, the ship that was carrying the weapons was coming in and out of Cartagena, so let's use that." Gibbs nodded at Vance and sipped his coffee. Ziva recognized his expression as his thinking face, and not up for another head slap, she waited for him to speak first.

"We send DiNozzo in as a DOD oversight official." Gibbs said, "That explains why he's in Cartagena, he's checking out the place after the smuggling. We'll make him a little rough around the edges, so if there's something going down, there's a better chance he'll hear about it."

Ziva smirked in spite of herself. "If there's one thing DiNozzo can handle, it's being rough around the edges."

"Ziva, you're making me blush." Tony said without missing a beat as he walked in with McGee. He winked at her as he settled into the chair between her and Gibbs. "So, what's the big secret?"

* * *

McGee sighed as they pulled up in front of Ziva's building. They were flying commercial to Miami, then switching to various other forms of transport to Colombia to protect their covers. Not that he really had a cover. He was going as a sailor on Navy ship, just in case, but Tony and Ziva were the ones who had major covers to pull off. McGee shot a sidelong glance at Tony. He was obviously excited, and in a really good mood. He honked several times as they waited for Ziva, and McGee winced. Ziva David did not strike him as someone who would take kindly to being honked at.

Tony eyed him expectantly and McGee remembered why he was sighing in the first place. He opened the door and climbed out of the front seat of the Mustang and headed for the back. There was no discussion or argument; that was simply the way it was. The front seat was Ziva's territory.

McGee watched his teammates carefully as Ziva glided out of the front door, put her luggage into the trunk Tony had opened and slid into the car. Tony never took his eyes off of her, and to McGee's surprise, Ziva seemed acutely aware of and pleased by this fact. She didn't even berate Tony for honking at her.

"I gotta say I'm pretty excited about this." Tony said as they headed for Reagan International.

McGee made a face. "Terrorists and danger undercover missions excite you?" he asked dubiously.

"Yes." Tony and Ziva answered in unison. McGee sighed; they obviously had a gene that he didn't get.

"Foreign country, intrigue, mystery, not to mention whatever Ziva's got in that suitcase," Tony said, shooting a suggestive sidelong glance at his partner. She returned the look from over top of her sunglasses. "Kind of reminds me of Mr. and Mrs. Smith. The opening scene, where they meet in that jungle."

"Ziva, you do pull off an Angelina vibe." McGee admitted. Ziva turned around without missing a beat.

"Would that make Tony Brad Pitt?" she asked playfully. McGee blinked. He had been expecting confusion.

"And Probie is Vince Vaughn." Tony concluded.

"He was my favorite character, McGee." Ziva supplied helpfully.

"You've seen the movie?" McGee asked her, still not sure where this was coming from.

"Twice," She confirmed. "We watched it, and then Tony snuck it back onto our list."

"Your list?" McGee repeated, suddenly feeling very out of the loop. He had clearly missed something. When she had first come back, Tony and Ziva bickered all the time, more than usual even, and McGee had more than once had the feeling Ziva really couldn't stand him. But not anymore, apparently.

"Don't worry Probie," Tony said suddenly, "This won't be that dangerous. Ziva and I will keep you safe. You know she's been helping me brush up on my Spanish?" he said, earning another grin from Ziva.

"What does that have to do with your list?"

"Focus McGee!" Tony commanded, smacking his hand on the dashboard. "The list is for movies. The Spanish is for the mission. I'm getting pretty good too."

Ziva snorted. "I think the poor employee at Taco Bell who suffered through your attempts to slur an order in Spanish would disagree." She said.

"That is entirely your fault," Tony shot back, "You shouldn't have taught me dos tequila por favor." McGee sighed again. He wasn't sure what had gotten into these two, but it was going to be a really long trip.

* * *

Tony sat on the plane with his mind racing. As they taxied down the runway, he felt like he had pure adrenaline pumping through his veins. He stole a glance at Ziva and grinned so hard his cheeks actually hurt. The anticipation was intoxicating, and he couldn't get enough of it. Anthony DiNozzo was certain this was it, more certain of it than anything else in his life; they were going to work this out, figure this out, and finally stop dancing around the feelings that had been there for years. The plane left the runway and Tony pressed his face against the window like he had when he was a little kid, and watched DC get smaller and smaller until he couldn't see it through the clouds.  
When the view was completely obscured, he turned to Ziva and let his fingers brush against hers on their shared arm rest.

"Buckle up." he told her. This was going to be one hell of a ride.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Progressing. Next chapter will see some action picking up, and um, Abby, who we forgot about.

**Thanks for the reviews- pleeeease keep them coming, we'll love you forever. **

Tony strolled into the delightfully non-descript building that masqueraded as a market and apartments behind Gibbs. The building was actually a CIA safe house that the CIA was not currently using, and they had ever so graciously (after much protest) lent the property to the NCIS and FBI fusion tour of 2010, as Tony had had taken to calling it.

"I read in the naval officers who are permanently stationed here," Tony said, continuing the narrative of his last two days to Gibbs, "And they understand they are not enduring DOD oversight, and that they should not say anything about my actual employer, the FBI, or Ziva."

He took a breath to keep talking, and was met with a swift slap to the back of the head. "Ow." Tony squeaked. "What was that for?"

"It's Lina Aperador, not Ziva." Gibbs replied. Tony rolled his eyes behind Gibb's back. He _knew_ that, but he didn't like it. That was the cover her father has designed for her nine years ago and its how this Varnaz guy knew her, but she was _his _Ziva. He followed Gibbs into the control room where McGee was waiting for them. In the uniform of a Navy sailor.

Tony tried to remain calm and professional in front of Gibbs and the handful of FBI agents sitting around, but he couldn't do it. He burst out laughing, and only stopped when Gibbs slapped him again. He composed himself, but somehow the sight of McGee standing in front of him looking all indignant made it even funnier and another round of laughter escaped. As Gibbs shook his head and headed for his desk, Tony realized how badly he wished Ziva were there to witness McGee in uniform.

"Sorry Probie." Tony finally gasped, wiping a tear from his eye and willing himself not to start laughing again.

"It's not funny Tony," McGee said, "I…"

He was cut off by Gibbs. "McGee!" he bellowed, causing his junior agent to jump and practically dive for the desk he had been assigned. "I want everything you have on this Varnaz Terzian."

"Right boss. Well the name is Armenian, which is where he was born. His father owns the largest chemical production company in Armenia, and his mother was a French actress."

"And?" Gibbs prompted. McGee and Tony glanced at each other and Tony winced; Gibbs already sounded annoyed- definitely not a good sign this early in a case.

"And, uh, other than what we already know from Ziva, that's all I have boss. There's absolutely nothing in this guy's background to suggest he's anything other than a rich playboy."

"I checked with a buddy at Homeland, boss," Tony supplied, "Same story. This guy's good."

Gibbs shook his head. "Nobody is that good. Work with Ziva when she gets in. I want to know everyone this guy has ever talked to, passed on the street, or breathed on in the last nine years."

"Ziva goes by Lina here boss." Tony reminded him. Gibbs shot him a glare that definitely would have killed him if looks could. "Right, you know that, I'll stop helping." Tony said quickly, sinking into a chair. He watched Gibbs pound at his keyboard, and then he watched McGee pound at his, in a more frantic, less angry way than Gibbs.

Tony was _just_ starting to get moody from boredom and too much energy when the sound of heels coming down the hall caused him to lift his head up and… "Fuck me." He murmured as Ziva entered the room in her usual way, sliding around the door and shutting it quietly behind her.

Tony met her gaze and kept his expression neutral as he flicked his eyes to her feet and took in her three inch heels, her tight white pants, and her turquoise top that seemed to be tight and loose in all the right places; it left her arms bare and more than a hint of cleavage exposed. His eyes made their way- after lingering on that cleavage- past her collar bone to the hair that spilled over her shoulders to finally meet her eyes.

She was smirking at him, daring him to say he didn't like it. Tony could tell she knew he was spellbound, and that usually meant he'd let her win, but he kept his expression neutral, hoping she'd take the bait and get closer to him. "Not bad, David." He said, shrugging.

Ziva's smirk deepened, and, thank you Jesus, Mary and Joseph, she made her way to the desk Tony was occupying. He spun his chair around so his back was to the computer, and grinned at her. She put her hands on the arms of his chair and leaned in close enough for Tony to smell her shampoo- and see right down her shirt. Ziva held her position like she was the cool one, like she was controlled, but she was so acutely aware of her proximity to his lips that the tingling in her stomach had spread to her toes.

If she moved a few inches toward him, their lips would practically be touching. Ziva realized with a start that she actually had moved toward him; her heart skipped a beat and her pulse quickened.

Tony stared back at her, his hands curling into fists. He was trying very hard to avoid all of the instincts in his body that were telling him to grab her hips and pull her onto his lap- immediately. Her poker face had dropped, and Tony thought he might actually win this round when she recovered and put one hand on his chest, using it to push herself back into an upright position. "Not bad indeed." She murmured.

"Whoa." Came McGee's voice from behind her. "How come you don't dress like that at home Ziva?" She turned around, a retort on the tip of her tongue. Instead she faltered and looked at Tony, who was starting to laugh again himself. The two of them went through several rounds of laughter before Ziva could choke out a reply to McGee through her hysterics.

"How come _you_ do not dress like _that_ at home, McGee?"

* * *

Gibbs left the building, annoyed. He set out on his search for coffee, thoughts tumbling around in his head. He had a nagging feeling about this case. Of course, that wasn't too unusual, especially with terrorists involved, but there was just something about this one that made him uneasy.

It was the underlying fear when the whole story unraveled, it would be something bigger than he and Fornell could control or stop. That and his increasing worry about Ziva. It was strange; of all of them, he usually worried about her the least, but she was holding something back. Gibbs was sure of it, and even more sure that finding out what she wasn't telling was the key to keeping her safe.

Of course, for all of their safety, they'd have to start working. Gibbs entered a café as soon as he smelled coffee and ordered the largest size they had. He was going to need it, especially if his team kept pissing him off this much.

Ever since he and Fornell had run into Tony and Ziva, Gibbs realized he had chosen to ignore the shift in their behavior. Their teasing was entirely flirtatious now; their bickering had turned into banter and even though he hadn't consciously acknowledged it until now, it wasn't surprising. Gibbs had known this would happen since Ziva's second week with the team. Eventually, they were going to figure out how good they were for each other, and stop hiding their feelings with their childish behavior and sexual innuendos.

He knew it was going to happen, and thankfully they'd given him five years to adjust to the idea, and he was basically okay with it. They would work it out, and Gibbs knew DiNozzo hadn't waited all this time just to screw it up. He just wished they didn't have to start working it out _now_. None of them were focused, and this case was serious.

Gibbs sighed, hoping head slapping was enough to get them in line and entered the building. He was heading up the back stairwell when voices floated down and met his ears.

"This is your fault," Tony was saying, "You would do well to work on your self control." Gibbs knew from his tone he was talking to Ziva.

"That is unexpected." She shot back. Gibbs could hear the smile in her voice. "I thought you had a thing for crazy Israeli chicks with impulse issues."

There was a pause as Tony chuckled. "Yea, you're right." There was another brief silence until Tony spoke again. "I've never seen you laugh like that before."

"We have never seen McGee in a Navy uniform before." She said with another giggle.

"I couldn't help but notice _your _uniform." Tony said. Gibbs rolled his eyes, recalling how his senior field agent noticed his partner's undercover attire with a full body stare that Ziva let go on for about three minutes.

Gibbs heard an exhale of air, and guessed Ziva was stretching, which never failed to get Tony's attention. "What do you think?" she asked, "Better than McGee's?"

"Much. You should wear that outfit every day."

Ziva laughed teasingly. "Oh trust me; you will want to see what else I brought."

Tony gave her a low whistle and Gibbs started climbing the stairs. He definitely didn't want to be down there if they took this any further.

"I _love_ going undercover." He heard Tony say.

"Is that right, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, pausing on the landing in front of them. They were sitting side by side, close enough for their thighs to touch, and before they had turned their heads to look at him, they had been looking at each other. When he turned to address Gibbs, there was an expression on Tony's face even his boss had never seen.

"Have you two solved the case? Because if you haven't you better have a damn good reason for sitting around." Tony and Ziva looked at each other and shared a sheepish smile. "A reason I'd like to hear before my coffee gets cold." Gibbs demanded.

"Uh, well, we were having some trouble composing ourselves…" Ziva started.

"And Fornell kicked us out." Tony finished.

Gibbs smirked. "He put you on time out. Good work, Tobias."

"Time out?" Ziva echoed.

"Yea, it's what parents call it out when they make their kids sit and do nothing."

"And that's a punishment?"

"Uh huh."

"Explains a lot about this country." Gibbs rolled his eyes. This was unbelievable. They should have been scrambling to get back on his good side, not having a conversation like he wasn't even there. To their credit they seemed to realize this. Ziva slapped the back of her own head and then Tony's.

"Sorry Gibbs," she muttered, "We will get back to work."

Gibbs smiled and walked around them. "Not until your time out is over."

* * *

Tony rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The team (plus Fornell) was theorizing in their make shift squad room, which was proving to be a pretty good stand in for their actual squad room. McGee had even set up a plasma, which currently had Varnaz Terzian's picture on it.

Tony was studying Varnaz, who he was pretty sure Ziva had slept with during her Mossad op. She hadn't said anything about it; in fact she had been careful not to say much about him at all, which made Tony pretty sure she'd slept with him. He studied his face; the guy was good looking, but definitely not Ziva's type. Of course no one would ever think that _he _was Ziva's type either.

Tony wasn't jealous, exactly, since it was for a mission, but it definitely made him like this guy less, which was something, given what they suspected him of. But it wasn't the terrorist thing that was giving Tony pause; it was the Ziva thing. He had a bad feeling that wasn't subsiding that there was more to her relationship with this guy than she was letting on. As his mind wandered to Die Another Day, when the bad guy disguised himself as a rich playboy, as their friend Varnaz had done, something clicked.

"What if the weapons didn't matter?" he asked out loud.

"Interesting theory," Fornell said thoughtfully, "Where'd you get that one, DiNozzo?"

"James Bond." Tony answered matter of factly, causing Ziva to snort and stifle her laughter. She stood up and walked around her desk, leaning against it.

"Could have been a test run." Tony suggested.

"Yea, but they got caught." McGee said dubiously.

"It is still a good theory." Ziva said. "Especially considering they could have wanted the weapons to be found."

"Why would they _want_ the weapons to be found?" McGee asked.

"When you find a carton filled with stolen automatic weapons, it kind of keeps you from looking for anything else." Tony supplied. He shared a glance with Ziva, who was nodding quickly.

"Exactly. Perhaps there was something else on the ship that was the true test."

"The ship is still in DC." Gibbs said. "McGee call the Director. Have him send a team down to go over every inch of that ship." McGee nodded and started dialing.

"You think they're right, Gibbs?" Fornell asked.

"It's a plausible theory, Tobias. And once we get to know more about this guy-" he jerked his thumb at the plasma- "We can determine the what and why and see if it matches up."

"And how do we get to know that guy?"

"I may have an answer to that." Ziva twisted to see where the familiar voice was coming from, and saw Agent Sacks.

"What the hell is here doing here?" Tony asked, rising from his chair.

"You have got to be kidding me." Ziva muttered. They moved to the middle of the room and Ziva crossed her arms over her chest.

"Agent Sacks was Fornell's choice for his senior agent on this case." Gibbs said.

"Is that a problem?" Fornell asked.

"Uh, yea," Tony shot back, "It is actually." Ziva nodded her agreement.

"Oh come on, DiNozzo." Sacks said.

"You accused us _both_ of murder." Ziva said, glaring at him.

"With good reason!" Sacks exclaimed.

"Enough." Gibbs said sounding disgusted. "Work it out. Agent Sacks, you were saying?"

"We've been doing surveillance and recon since we got here. We know where Varnaz and his people hang out. Officer David, since you're the resident expert on this guy,"

"Agent." Tony interrupted. "She's Agent David now." Sacks rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, _Agent_ David. Do you think we should send you to him or let word get out your back in town?" Ziva hesitated, and Gibbs answered for her.

"He'll come to her. Fornell and I need to talk. We're going for coffee. I want a plan by the time we get back."

McGee wandered over to where Tony, Ziva and Sacks were standing as their bosses left. "You think he'll catch on and seek you out, Ziva?" He asked. Sacks turned to her and looked her up and down.

"I know I would." He murmured. Ziva moved toward him, but Tony beat her there. He grabbed Sacks by the hand and pushed down hard on the sensitive pressure point near his thumb.

"You _ever_ look at her like that again, and I will kill you." He said in his ear before striding past him and grabbing his chair. "Okay team. Campfire!"

* * *

Gibbs and Fornell returned twenty minutes later, and despite Gibb's demand that a plan be developed, they were expecting bloodshed. Or at least stony stares and angry silence, which explained the surprise Gibbs felt when they were sitting in a circle in the middle of the room.

"What the hell is that?" Fornell muttered to him.

"Campfire." Gibbs said simply.

"DiNozzo?" Fornell asked.

Gibbs nodded in confirmation. "DiNozzo."

"I think we got something boss." Tony said. He gave Sacks a large, slightly mocking grin. "Agent Sacks, since this was your initial idea, perhaps you would like to take the floor." Gibbs rolled his eyes at Fornell who shook his head at their agents.

"Thank you, Agent DiNozzo," Sacks said in his own slightly mocking tone, "We focused on the best way to draw Varnaz to Ziva, uh, Agent David. I was thinking we could send her and DiNozzo to one of the bars his friends hang out at. On a date. They sit around and flirt with each, word gets back, he seeks her out immediately." Gibbs and Fornell exchanged a glance.

"Jealousy is a powerful motivator." Fornell pointed out. Gibbs raised his eyebrows in agreement, and focused his gaze on Tony and Ziva.

"David. DiNozzo. Figure out how you're going to do this without blowing your covers. McGee, Sacks, find a place that we can survey, and work with the other agents to set up security. I want to do this tomorrow night."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Okay, did everyone hate the last chapter, or were the review buttons broken? Love it, hate us, want us to change things, let us know.**

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

"Good morning McGee!" Ziva called out as she entered their home away from home squad room and set a coffee on his desk. McGee was slightly taken aback, trying to remember when she had gotten so cheerful.

"Morning Ziva. You're here early."

"Gibbs called. He wants us to go through Varnaz's business holdings and see if we can pinpoint any suspicious transactions."

McGee sighed. "Great. This guy has his hand in everything from chemicals to film production. That should only take weeks, if we don't stop to eat, sleep or go to the bathroom."

"I can get you a bedpan for your desk, McGee." Gibbs said appearing behind them, seemingly out of nowhere. How did he _always_ do that?

"I wasn't complaining boss. Just mentioning."

"Save the mentioning until you've finished it, Tim." Gibbs said. "Got a conference with the director over satellite. I'll be back." He left quickly, coffee in hand, leaving Ziva and McGee alone in the squad room. The FBI team was in the field, preparing for their trap setting stint that night, and Tony was doing something in keeping with his cover.

McGee paused. Tony and Ziva had been acting stranger than usual, even for them, and there was a lingering question that had been on McGee's mind since yesterday. "Why didn't you threaten to kill Tony for that thing with Agent Sacks yesterday?" McGee asked her. Ziva lifted her head from her phone, abandoning the text message she had been typing.

"What thing?" she asked blankly.

McGee looked at her like she was crazy. "The thing where Sacks looked you up and down like Tony does. With the leering and the bedroom eyes, and you let Tony…" he paused, searching for the words, "Defend your honor." He studied her reaction carefully and caught the hint of a suppressed smile.

"Did I?" she asked lightly. McGee sighed and stood up to switch on the plasma.

"A year ago, you would have killed him for that." He pointed out. This time, despite all of her spy skills and her ninja stealth, Ziva couldn't hide her smile.

"Things change."

* * *

Several hours later Ziva pushed her chair away from her computer screen, stretched and rubbed her eyes. She and McGee had been sifting through Varnaz's financial records for what felt like an eternity and she was getting restless. Of course if she was honest with herself, the thing she was eager to take action on was not the case, but the state of her relationship with Tony.

_Couldn't live without you I guess._ Those six words he had said to her in Somalia had been swirling around in her head ever since. Cornering him in the bathroom a few weeks ago had been an important step for her, but since then the timing never seemed right to do anything else about it.

Yes, the timing was off. And she was scared shitless. In reality it wasn't that hard to say. But every time she was _this_ close to squeezing her eyes shut and blurting out _I can't live without you either, and I don't want to try, so stick with me for the next 40 or 50 years,_ she talked herself out of it.

Okay, so it wasn't timing. Until now, even with Michael, she had never had a relationship she was totally invested in. She always had the upper hand, always controlled the dynamic, and where it was going. Moving forward with Tony would mean entering her first relationship where she could end up getting her heart broken.

_Tony wouldn't do that_, her new brave side, the side that had the courage to have feelings, told her. Her old brave side, that defined courage as having the balls to risk her life pulling triggers all day, was the proverbial devil on her shoulder, with her new definition of bravery as the opposing angel.

The angel side was right. Tony was crazy about her. She _knew_ that. She saw the way he looked at her. But she didn't want to squeeze her eyes shut and blurt it out. She wanted to wait until she could look him in the eye and tell him how she felt. She shook her head to shut up the different Zivas on her shoulders and stood up, somehow feeling better about things.

In fact, she felt good enough to let a huge grin spread across her face when Tony strolled in, flanked by Fornell and Sacks. Sacks eyed her strangely. "Didn't think you'd be so happy to see me." He said dryly.

"Oh I'm not." Ziva said throwing a wink at Tony in case there was any question over who she was happy to see. He was thinking of a way to flirt back with Ziva and insult Sacks at the same time when Gibbs came charging into the room. McGee was on the phone so Gibbs, who Tony privately thought looked like an angry bull, turned his attention to Ziva.

"How's it going with the financial records Ziva?" He asked. "You get lucky?" Ziva knew she'd get her head slapped for this, but she couldn't resist. She smirked and looked Tony up and down before replying.

"Not yet." Tony chuckled and turned to Sacks with an extremely self satisfied smile on his face. Sure enough, Gibbs reached out and delivered a well-placed smack on the back of Ziva's head.

"I saw that coming." She whispered to Tony.

"And yet you went for it anyway." Tony said with a hint of pride evident in his tone.

"It is the outfit." Ziva replied easily, gesturing to her too short for a typical day at the Navy Yard wrap dress and heels. Tony looked at her back in an overtly obvious way, his focus settling on her ass and staying there.

"God bless Israel." He murmured.

"God bless Israel? You know it is full of Jews, don't you Tony?" Ziva teased.

Tony dragged his gaze away from her butt and smacked a hand to his forehead, making an exaggerated shocked face. "You're _Jewish_?" he joked.

From his desk, McGee sighed. Tony and Ziva were doing that thing that where they seemed to forget they were in a room full of people and started having a private conversation that was totally inappropriate for their audience, and Gibbs looked like he was one more quip away from strangling them both.

As annoying as they could be, McGee definitely didn't want to have to take over their assignment tonight and go on a date with Agent Sacks, so he chose to intervene before Gibbs killed his coworkers.

"Boss? Abby needs to talk to us," McGee piped up, faltering when the murderous glance was turned on him, "She, uh, says it's urgent."

"Tell him it could be a matter of life and death!" Abby instructed.

"She says it could be a matter of life and death boss."

Gibbs sighed and jerked his head towards McGee. "Come on. McGee, put her on speaker." Tony and Ziva followed, tailed by Fornell and Sacks, and they all assembled around McGee's desk, in a formation that looked suspiciously like a campfire, Tony noted with a smile.

"We're all here, Abs. We've got you on speaker." McGee said.

"Who's we're all?" she echoed.

"Uh, me, boss, Tony, Ziva, Fornell and Agent Sacks." McGee rattled off.

"Agent Sacks?" Abby hissed, "The creep who tried to put Tony _and _Ziva away for murder? Who invited him?"

"I did, Miss Scuito." Fornell said dryly, shooting an amused glance at Gibbs. "And we're still on speaker phone."

"What have you got Abs?" Gibbs asked, directing her focus back to the case.

"I screwed up Gibbs. I left a huge hole in Ziva's cover." A beat passed and no one spoke, so Abby charged ahead. "I designed it like I designed Tony's, like we always design covers, and then I didn't think of it again, but this is different than the usual cover." She paused again. "Was that confusing?"

"You were working off the cover ID from her Mossad op," Gibbs said, smiling, "We got it."

"Oh, good. Cause it was getting a little confusing to me, and when I'm confusing myself, it's safe to assume that other people might be confused, and,"

"Abs." Tony said, stepping in before Gibbs lost it. Killing him and Ziva was one thing, but he'd really regret killing Abby. "What's missing from the cover?"

"About nine years," Abby confirmed, "Not to mention why she suddenly resurfaced in Colombia."

"Well, yea, Abs, I'd say that's a pretty big hole." Gibbs confirmed.

From her position next to Tony, Ziva tapped her index finger again her lips. "I cannot believe that did not occur to me." She muttered absently. They stood in silence until Gibbs cleared his throat, clearly waiting for Abby.

"Well," she began slowly, drawing out the word, "You see, um, I happened to…." She trailed off.

"Spit it out Abby." Gibbs said in his Abby warning tone, which was much less severe than his warning tone for everyone else, except maybe Ducky who usually got the soft touch too.

"Well I panicked, cause, oh my God, you know if someone were to check and discover anomalies or discrepancies, it could get hinky."

"Right…." Gibbs replied, encouraging her to continue. Sacks looked at Fornell and mouthed _'hinky_'with a confused expression. Fornell shook his head, which Sacks seemed to take as instructions not to ask.

"The good news is I filled in the missing time and information. With a job. The first one I thought of that fit with the cover and the set up tonight."

"Abs, now is not the time to make me say please." Gibbs threatened.

"Right, did I mention I thought of this when I was panicking, and it's a good thing because it doesn't mess up the scenario you staged for tonight?"

"Abby!"

"Okay," Abby said, "Ziva, please don't kill me. I made you a secterpreter for the DOD." She spit out very fast.

Ziva blinked and looked at Tony, holding up a finger. "Okay, I know there is no such word as secterpreter." She said definitively. "Right?"

"You're right," Abby piped up again, "I made it up to describe the job I gave Lina. About seven years again, the Defense Department hired what they called administrative associates for employees who needed secretaries and translators. They made it sound impressive, but it's basically a bilingual secretary. Hence, secterpreter." Abby stated conclusively, as if it made perfect sense.

"Is that like Brangelina?" Ziva whispered to Tony.

He leaned down to her ear, close enough that his face was touching her hair. "Essentially, yes, but celebrity couples are on a whole different level."

"Ah," Ziva replied, nodding. "Abby, why would I kill you for that? It is reassuring that you assume my intelligence level is above that of a, uh, _secterpreter_," she said questioningly, trying out the word, "But it is just a cover."

"Well there's more." Abby admitted. "I still needed something that put you in Cartagena without raising suspicion."

Tony placed his hands together as if he were praying and raised them over his head. "Dear God, _please_ let this be going where I think its going." He said. Gibbs shot Fornell a look and Tobias delivered a head slap with a little chuckle.

Ziva looked around their huddle, confused. "I do not understand."

Abby sighed. "You're going to make me spell it out, huh? I guess I deserve that. I made you a DOD administrative associate, formerly at the Pentagon and now relocated to Cartagena, and specifically assigned to Tony."

"Ay, dios mio." Ziva muttered in Spanish. She tried to look indignant, but the corners of her mouth were turning up at both ends. She snuck a glance at Tony and couldn't help but snicker. She had never seen a child on Christmas morning, but they would look just like Tony did now.

"And, since I helped you pack your Lina wardrobe," Abby continued, "I know that nothing you have would be appropriate for your new salaried job as a government bureaucrat, and it has to look real. So Jimmy, his girlfriend, Ducky and I shipped you some work clothes. You should have them tomorrow."

"Can't wait." Ziva said dryly.

Tony edged toward McGee's desk and leaned down to the receiver. "Thank you!" he hissed into the phone. Tony dodged yet another blow to the back of the head, and Gibbs and Fornell started bellowing instructions. McGee waited until the room cleared, then snatched up the receiver.

"What are you up to?" he asked suspiciously.

"What do you mean Timmy?" Abby asked in a syrupy voice that McGee could hear her grin through. He knew she was up to something. He always could read Abby.

"You would _never_ miss a nine year lapse in a cover." McGee said matter of factly. It was true; Abby was meticulous.

"Of course not, McGee. But do you think Ziva would have ever gone with that if she was standing in my lab while I fulfilled what I'm sure are a fair share of DiNozzo fantasies, and made her Tony's secretary?" McGee furrowed his brow, trying to decide which question to ask first.

"How did you know she wouldn't notice nine years missing from her own alias?"

"Please," Abby said. "She's too busy noticing Tony noticing her to notice anything else."

McGee slapped his hand on his desk. "I knew it!" he exclaimed. "They've been acting….well, how they've been acting for awhile. It's just so _obvious_ when we're away from our routine."

"Once again my superior powers of observation have put me ahead of the curve." Abby responded triumphantly. "It's been obvious, since like, day one. I'm just trying to help them along, McGee. For all of our sakes. The sooner they start having sex, the sooner we can stop watching them rile each other up all day."

"Bless you, Abby Sciuto."

* * *

"This is like a freakin' movie." Tony muttered to himself as he strolled down the street to the bar where he was supposed to meet Ziva. No, Lina. The weather seemed to be a perfect reflection of his mood; it was hot and breezy, and storm clouds blanketed the dark sky. The anticipation that crackled in the air seeped into his bones and sent shivers down his spine.

Tony began to wonder what he should try and get out of this date. Of course they were going as Aaron and Lina, not Tony and Ziva, but still. He frowned as he struggled to figure out how to play this. For the first time in his life, he wanted the serious, relationship stuff to move faster. He wanted to be able to touch her and kiss her whenever he wanted and not give a damn who saw them.

He probably should have been freaking out and having panic attacks caused by these sentiments. Anyone who knew him a few years ago would expect that, but surprisingly, Tony had sort of stumbled into this calm place where he knew what he wanted, and he wasn't scared of the idea that this thing with Ziva could be forever.

For once, it wasn't the commitment that was the problem, it was getting there. Tony wasn't stupid, especially when it came to decoding Ziva. He saw this was difficult for her, and he got it, he really did. She was way more comfortable being superwoman than human. So he'd wait until she initiated it, Tony decided. Maybe not for everything; hell if he had the balls, and was sure she wouldn't kill him for it, maybe he'd kiss her tonight. But the inevitable epic confessions that was looming, he'd leave up to Ziva.

He slowed down as he approached the plaza near the park where he was supposed to meet her. He scanned the people milling around and didn't see her. Thinking he'd plop his ass on a bench and think about her the way her ass looked today, he took two steps forward before he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"There's something about this tropical climate that really draws out your inner ninja, _Lina_." He said as he turned around. His eyes fell on her and his jaw literally dropped, a motion that went unnoticed. Tony's brain was suddenly locked in an epic struggle between taking mental pictures of Ziva and fighting his body's natural reaction to the sight of her, which was threatening to draw out a certain part of his anatomy.

When he had calmed down enough that the threat of an embarrassing teenage moment had passed, he stepped back and drank in the sight of her. She was wearing the perfect black dress and heels that made her legs look endless. She was all perfect limbs, bare shoulders and cleavage; enough to turn him from very special agent to helplessly whipped lapdog if she wanted to.

She cleared her throat and he forced himself to look at eyes, and saw she was looking at him with the same dirty eyes he had trained on her. He grinned. "I look good, don't I?" he quipped. She took a step forward and stepped right into him like she always did. Tonight though, it almost sent him over the edge.

"Oh you look good." She confirmed in a soft, sultry voice. Jesus, DiNozzo, Tony thought. Get a hold of yourself. He couldn't let her win _all_ the time, after all. He smirked and slid his hands onto her hips, grinning at the way she instinctively pressed against him. He moved an arm around her waist, letting his hand rest on her ass.

"Ready Lina?"

She laughed in response. "You have no idea."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yea, we're dragging it out, and this is dialouge heavy, but we have a plan, so stick with it. **

**And REVIEW. Please?**

McGee was thinking of something Abby had said a couple years ago. The team had been questioning Gibbs and his famous gut, along with his sanity, and Abby defended Gibbs' methods with a single statement. _"Gibbs gut practically_ _tells the future, you guys." _McGee was beginning to suspect that his sense of trepidation could predict when someone was about to step in it, and he was predicting Tony and Ziva would step in it very soon, if they hadn't already.

As he sat at a table across from Sacks and watched them settle down at bar stools, he realized that it didn't matter that they were undercover. This was a date. Since his conversation with Abby earlier that day, he watched Tony and Ziva more carefully, and it was obvious that they were moving towards something more than partners. And like Abby, he supported it. They made each other better. And he thought Gibbs would support it too.

But going for it, without talking to Gibbs first? That would be stepping in it. Big time. And judging from what he had seen in the five minutes since they'd walked into the bar, McGee didn't think they'd be holding out much longer.

"Talk to me, McGee." Gibbs voice said through his earpiece.

"They just arrived, boss. FBI confirms that Varnaz's good friend and several business associates are here, but so far nothing out of the ordinary. We're close enough to overhear them, and Tony has a duress word." There was a short pause.

"You expecting trouble, McGee?" Gibbs asked.

"Not at all, boss. I just, uh, like to be prepared. It's the Boy Scout in me." Sacks snickered across the table, and Gibbs didn't say anything else, so McGee turned his attention back to Tony and Ziva.

Tony's undercover assignment was downright boring during the day. Pretending to be a Defense Department oversight official sent in to investigate weapons smuggling was arguably one of the dullest things he'd ever done. Since he was running a fake investigation, there wasn't a whole lot to occupy the many hours he was stuck pretending to work during the day.

This had provided him ample time to develop a strategy for The Big Fake Date. He researched Ziva's Mossad cover; Lina Aperador was a party girl. She was up for anything and happy go lucky with a fondness for tequila. It almost made Tony appreciate Mossad. Almost.

His cover was Aaron Cambridge, a spoiled prepster from the wealthy Main Line outside of Philadelphia. Aaron had gone to Duke, and belonged to a fraternity whose members were famous for drinking.

This led Tony to only one conclusion. Drinking was the order of the evening. He signaled the bar tender, and grinned wickedly at Ziva. "Dos tequilas por favor."

Ziva smirked playfully at him, sensing a challenge. "Y dos cervezas, por favor. Y Consiga que." The bartender nodded at her with a smile.

"What does that mean?" Tony asked. "I mean I got the cerveza part, but you didn't cover the other thing in our lessons."

"Consiga que?" Ziva repeated. She dropped one into a wink. "I suppose a _rough_ translation would be keep them coming."

"Do you always prefer your translations rough?" Tony shot back.

"Do you always make your come ons so obvious?"

Tony hesitated for a second but she arched one eyebrow ever so slightly, and he went for it. "Lina, I'm always obviously when I come…come on, I mean."

He held her gaze steadily willing her to crack, and this one went in his favor. The corners of her mouth turned up and she burst out laughing. When she regained her composure she lifted her shot glass, and he followed suit. The tequila went straight to her head and she could feel herself teetering on the edge of falling for him so hard she'd never get up.

"So Aaron, have you seen any good movies lately?" Her wink told Tony this question was not for their cover, but purely for his enjoyment.

"I was _just_ watching one before I left to meet you," he improvised, "But I didn't get to finish it. Paused it in the last ten minutes."

Ziva paused, considering where this was going. She had asked him that question to give herself a moment to think, to get a grip. She figured it would cause him to seize the opportunity with an answer like, _oh yea, I was actually just musing on why Sean Connery is the best James Bond_ or _No, I've been watching my Magnum box set lately_. So where was he going with this?

"What was it about?" she asked cautiously.

"Well the main character is this hot, highly trained Federal agent. And the story is about his relationship with his incredibly sexy partner. She comes in, new to the team, and they have this instant chemistry. But she intimidates the _shit_ out of him, so they're always getting in each other's face, trying to make the other one flinch first. Very aggressive flirting, innuendo heavy banter. They drive everyone else crazy."

Ziva gave him a small smile. "So he just wants to sleep with her yes?"

"At first, yea. All he can think about is shoving her against the wall, tearing her clothes off and nailing her. Because, Lina, she's not just hot, she's _extraordinary_."

McGee rolled his eyes at Sacks as they sat and listened to this conversation. He couldn't figure out where it was going, but Tony was laying it on.

Ziva conceded another small smile, unsure of why they were doing this, and hesitant to take it much further. "So they slept together?"

Tony grinned, and smirked at her. "Only in the guy's dreams."

Ziva arched an eyebrow, more comfortable on this territory. "I am sure his partner had her fair share of similar fantasies."

Tony paused in his story, and leaned back, appraising her. _Really?_ He mouthed, simultaneously swiveling his stool to face her. She squeezed his knee quickly and he remembered where he was going with this.

"So, they have this crazy boss, and he quits, and the partner is the new boss. And you think it's going to tear them apart, but it actually brings them really close together. He's with her all the time. They have dinner, they have coffee, and he's at her apartment. And without realizing it, they've formed this weird bond, and all of a sudden, he's going crazy if he doesn't see her over the weekend."

"Sounds a little… co-dependent, yes?" Ziva asked.

Tony angled his body slightly towards McGee and raised his voice. "Their computer geek of a teammate certainly thinks so."

Ziva chuckled, summoned her courage and asked The Question. The Question that the led to The Conversation. One of the few discussions they'd never had. "So why didn't they get together then?"

McGee, who was now shamelessly eavesdropping, sucked in a breath. She hadn't even bothered to ask that in the context of the fictional movie Tony had woven their story into.

Tony drank about half his beer in one gulp and took a deep breath. "Their boss came back. And her partner wanted to, Lina. It was killing him. He got this undercover assignment, and lying about it to her was the hardest thing he'd ever done. But she was… a ninja. And she wasn't like the girl he usually dated. They were clingy, and needy and insecure and she was so cool, so confident. He was chicken shit. He couldn't suck it up and tell her he wanted it, because he was so freaking powerless against her."

She met his eyes, downed her second shot, and went for it. "And the undercover assignment?"

Sacks was getting a headache from all the brow furrowing he was doing. He shot McGee his fifth questioning look in as many minutes. McGee looked shocked. He leaned over the table and whispered to Sacks, "I'll try to explain later, but she just went somewhere big."

"It was a girl. Her father was an arms dealer, and he was assigned to date the daughter." Tony's voice had dropped the bravado it had when he started the story.

"So he chose to go with her instead?" Ziva questioned, her voice an almost whisper. "Less complicated model."

McGee's jaw dropped so far he thought it might hit the table, and Sacks watched Tony wince. And wince he did. _Ouch_. He always knew she had his number, but that was so raw and so true it threw him.

"I told you he was chicken shit," Tony said with a guilty smile, "The point is it was a mistake. And he regretted it for the rest of the movie. Cause when the assignment ended, there were trust issues, and other issues, and it was… complicated."

"So then what happened?"

"He was working on it. You know, finding a way to show her he wasn't that guy anymore, and just when they were both thinking maybe they were edging toward each other again, someone close to them died. And they got separated before they could pick up the pieces."

"Sounds like a pretty depressing movie." She commented.

"Nah. There's been some really shitty stuff, but in between, they loved every minute of it." Tony's voice went up ever so slightly at the end of the sentence, an almost undetectable inflection, asking her to confirm.

She turned the corners of her mouth upward and nodded, giving him a reason to keep talking.

"And then shit really hit the fan. And he fucked up." Tony paused, eyeing her. "But she gave him reason to. It was an almost mutual fuck up, with justifications on both sides. And she left, and boy did it almost kill him. He couldn't focus, couldn't sleep. And for awhile, he thought she was dead, and that almost did him in."

Under the bar, with their bodies blocking the gesture from view, Ziva impulsively reached out and circled her hand around his wrist, and shook her head.

"No, really, Lina," Tony insisted, "I'd sugarcoat it, but it's essential to the plot. He almost really lost it. But somehow, he got her back, and it was bad for awhile. You see, all of a sudden, she went from not trusting him, to him not trusting her. Because he didn't realize until then how committed he was to her, and she was the first person he had that kind of raw vulnerability with, and they weren't even together."

"So what made him distrust her?" She was wide eyed and whispering now, wondering how they had gotten here, and why she wasn't running away from this conversation.

"Because he felt like she left him. And she was the first woman he didn't leave before she could abandon him. And it was irrational, in light of the circumstances, but he felt like she left him. And that felt like someone ripped out his heart, crushed it and filled his chest with lead. And he acted like an idiot, but he's so sorry. He could see how much it hurt her when he pushed away, and punished her for something she didn't know she did, and he is so sorry."

She nodded, but didn't say anything. McGee felt suddenly uncomfortable, and wished he could get up and leave, or plug his ears; this was something private.

Tony sensed she wasn't going to say anything else, so he charged ahead. "So I'm almost at the end, and the guy's in the bathroom, when his partner charges in, and basically tells him she knows they're gonna happen, and oh my God, Lina, he is so over the moon about it that it's actually hard to describe."

"Over the moon?" Ziva repeated. Her face was scrunched in familiar confusion.

Tony laughed. "Yea. Happier than happy, ecstatic, elated. You know, over the moon."

"Oh. So that is a good thing."

"It's a _very _good thing. So he can't believe he's gotten this lucky. And as much as he wants to figure it out, and define what they'll be, he wants her to take her time. I mean, he _definitely_ wants her; dear God, he wants her. But he also wants to be able to kiss her on the head when she messes up her idioms, and slip an arm around her in the elevator whenever he feels like it. Tell her exactly how much he cares about her."

He met Ziva's eyes and she looked down. "But he gets it, and he'll wait. She can take all the time she needs to be ready, because he'll wait forever for her." She looked up sharply, and he could have sworn her eyes had misted over.

"So all in all it turned out to have a happy ending."

"How do you know?" she asked, her voice teasing again, "You said you didn't finish it."

Tony shrugged. "I have a gut feeling. They're going to make it." She squeezed his hand under the table and they looked at each other in a way she wasn't used to it.

McGee watched them watch each other, looking for telltale signs of eye sex, but found none. Finally, Tony broke the gaze by leaning in and kissing her quickly on the lips. "They're going to be just fine." He repeated.

Her attention was diverted by the bartender placing fresh shots in front of them. She handed one to Tony and raised hers in the air. "I will drink to that."

* * *

Gibbs and Fornell were sitting in their Colombian squad room, and Gibbs felt like he was wasting his time. Sitting around listening to McGee and Sacks whisper about Tony and Ziva was like listening to two high school boys talk about the king and queen at prom, and it bothered Gibbs on way too many levels.

"This better work, Jethro." Fornell said, interrupting his thoughts. He removed his earpiece and sat back in his chair. Gibbs followed suit.

"He'll come looking for her," Gibbs said, "That's not the part I'm worried about."

"Of course he will," Fornell agreed, "That's not the part I'm worried about either. It's why. To be honest, Gibbs, David seems like she's holding something back."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Fornell and waited. "Oh hell, Jethro, they're good kids. I'd hate to lose any of our agents."

Gibbs chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder. "Yea, Tobias. I can see that." He paused before speaking again. "She's protecting someone else from worrying about her."

"Well I know thing, Gibbs. It's not you she's protecting." Fornell quipped.

"Oh," Gibbs shot back, "Do you think, Fornell?" He rolled his eyes. "No, she doesn't want him to do something stupid."

"Do you think he would?"

"Got one word for you, Fornell. Somalia."

"Good point." Gibbs thought about it for a few more minutes, and then stood up. "Keep things under control here. I gotta talk to Vance."

* * *

Tony was relieved. He had gotten everything out of his system, and they were safely back on solidly flirtatious ground. He had no idea why he chose now to pour his heart out and get right into the heavy stuff, but it kind of worked.

He thought maybe Ziva was going to chide him for taking the easy way out and telling the story instead of directly confronting the issues, but he realized this was much more…_them_. Neither of them was inclined to make a big deal of having state of the relationship talks, and Tony being Tony kind of worked.

He made a mental note of that for the next time she told him to _Stop being so DiNozzo about this, DiNozzo!_

"You really do look quite fetching in that dress, Miss Aperador." He drawled, looking her up and down for the hundredth time that night. She grinned devilishly, giving him that damn look; they look she shot him where her eyes were darker than usual and her mouth was slightly open. It was her dirty thoughts look and it got him every time.

"You do not look so bad yourself." She purred, reaching out to straighten his tie. She placed her hand on his chest and left it there for a minute too long. Before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled down from her stool so she was standing in front of him, their faces at even heights. Her hand slid from his chest to his shoulder, and his sat on her hips. He started to pull her closer, to _finally_ press his mouth down on hers, and snake a hand in her hair when he caught sight of Sacks and McGee watching them, McGee in an obvious stunned horror.

Ziva followed his gaze and side stepped away from the bar. "Ladies room." She said lightly, heading toward the door. Tony let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Jesus." He muttered, taking the shot sitting in front of him. He motioned to the bartender, who had been following Ziva's orders in keeping them coming, hoping he'd keep them coming faster.

Ziva pressed her forehead against the metal of the bathroom stall, ignoring the sanity concerns in doing so. Her heart was racing, and her blood was pumping double time. The feeling of deep and simple _want_ permeated her stomach and made itself heard between her legs. She took a few deep breaths, afraid she might actually be shaking, before making her way back to him.

When she returned, she found several new shots in front of them. She grinned at Tony, who was grinning at her. "I'll race you, Linah." He taunted, drawing out the 'A' like he did with Ziva.

"You'll be watching me cross the finish line." She shot back, picking up a glass without sitting down.

His eyes dropped back to her ass. "In that case, I'll lose on purpose."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: AHHH! Thank you guys SO MUCH for the response to the last chapter! We loved it so much we had to update asap. Also, we just realized we haven't responded to reviews, so we'll be responding to the ones we have, and the ones we get to show love!**

**Thanks for the response to the last chap! Keep 'em coming, and REVIEW! We'll update faster!**

Ziva David was trying to make sense of the thoughts swirling around in her head. Tony had laid a lot on her back there, and it would have been easier to figure out how she felt about if she wasn't a little drunk. Her Mossad training was currently screaming in protest; you never get this distracted (or intoxicated) during a mission. She suspected Gibbs might not be too pleased either, but she was having way too much fun to care, which was a completely new feeling for her.

"I think I was really going somewhere with the empty shot glass pyramid." Tony mused, his voice sounding extremely happy, and a little drunk, just like she felt.

They walked lazily through the thick Colombian air, listening to thunder rumble overhead. It was a good, tropical hot, and while people still walked the streets, it wasn't too crowded. The night was black and the lights were dim, and Tony decided he was going to kiss her tonight. He stopped walking and pulled her to him. They stood, staring at each other like they _always_ were. Always staring, watching, teasing, and wanting, but never taking.

A roll of deafening thunder boomed in the sky, followed immediately by a blinding flash of lightning, and all of the sudden, the sky opened and rain fell. Ziva was still looking up at him, and as much as Tony appreciated the Golden Age Hollywood tribute that a kiss in the middle of a plaza during a downpour would provide, he grabbed her hand and started running.

They ended up under the awning of a store that had long since closed for the day. Ziva turned to face Tony again. She knew she was soaking wet, her hair was plastered to her neck, and she guessed her makeup had probably started running, but she didn't care. Their eyes met, and his hands settled on her hips again. Ziva felt her heart rate speed up, and she knew it wasn't from dashing out of the rain; it was that feeling again. Feeling like she was hovering on the edge of no return, and letting herself tumble into the fall would not only mean falling for him, but falling away from the last bit of self preservation she was still clinging to.

All of the fear, doubt, and the need to protect herself from any and all vulnerabilities crept back in, and Ziva suddenly felt very exposed. Tony lifted his hands to her cheeks and pushed the wet hair out of her face. She didn't move as he slowly brought his lips to hers and kissed her.

Tony could sense she was frozen, unsure. So he kissed her gently and pulled back, resting his forehead on hers, waiting. Ziva's eyes searched his, looking for any indication that she was imagining him looking at her like that, like she was what he'd been waiting for.

She couldn't find one. So she could refuse to believe it and ruin this now, or she could do what Abby told her to do before she cornered him in the men's room. _"Grow a pair and get it, David!" _Her hands snaked around his neck and she brought her lips to his again.

His mouth parted for her tongue, for this kiss, their first real kiss. This wasn't a shy brushing of their lips, not a quick peck to thank him, not an exploration of pure sexual tension under assumed names in a hotel room reserved for someone else.

Ziva pulled back again and Tony's heart skipped a beat, wondering if she was going to pull away from him. Instead she asked, "Did you mean everything you said in there?"

"Every syllable." He confirmed.

And with that, she brought their lips together again, and decided to let herself fall, trusting he would catch her. She kissed him hard, a kiss that was years in the making, that let out all the watching, all the waiting, all the _wanting_. One of his hands clamped onto her hip, and squeezed, while the other slid to the small of her back.

She moaned softly in protest when Tony broke the kiss, and he responded by placing light, fluttering kisses to her jaw, until he reached the sensitive skin of her neck. He nipped at her neck, under her earlobe, in all the right places, and Ziva actually felt light headed. Her blood was pumping faster than in recent memory, but the sensation between her legs, the urge to press her hips to him told her none of her blood was going to her head.

He lifted his head and met her eyes, before slipping a hand into her hair and crushing his lips on hers again. She groaned into his mouth as he gave her hair a slight tug. He turned them and pressed her against the wall. Or it could have been a door. His brain couldn't focus on anything other than the fire spreading through his body and the feel of her against him, her tongue teasing his. He pushed himself against her and almost cried out when she pushed back.

Ziva's hands were grasping at him frantically, and somewhere in his brain that was just so consumed with her, a neuron fired and he sensed what she wanted. He grabbed her ass and lifted her so she could hook her legs around his waist. "Oh God Tony." She gasped against his lips as she pressed against him; that was the _exact_ angle she was looking for, and his increasing hardness hit her in a place that felt so perfect, she dug her nails into his shoulder.

He gave one more nerve tingling kiss before pulling back. Ziva saw that at some point she had loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt so she dipped her neck and nipped his collarbone.

"Ziva…." He breathed, drawing out the last syllable.

"Are you going to tell me that is your knee?" she asked, grinning. He shook his head and kissed her again, pulling away much too soon.

"We haven't done the thing yet." He said breathlessly. "The figuring out thing, not the thing I wanna do now." He paused, squeezing her hips and making her squirm. "Should we stop?"

She didn't respond, instead she moved one hand from his shoulder to his chest, thinking about having that toned chest pressed against her, finally, after all of this time, just Tony and Ziva, his skin on her skin. Without realizing it she pushed herself against him, hard. He groaned and captured her mouth again.

They both pulled away, chests heaving, sweat now mixing with the rain. "I don't want to stop, Zi," he panted.

"So don't." She whispered, pulling his shirt out of his pants. He dropped his mouth to her neck again and without a moment's pause to consider the pros and cons of letting him take her right there on the street, she started working on his belt buckle. If he wasn't holding her against the wall, Tony would have dropped to his knees and thanked every deity he could think of when he felt her hands against him and heard his zipper go down.

Every nerve in his body tingled as she started working him with expert hands through his boxers. He pushed her dress up to her waist and tugged her miniscule underwear to the side, and stopped cold when his phone rang intrusively.

Tony looked at Ziva with pleading eyes. "Ignore it?" he asked, knowing that wasn't an option.

"We are in the middle of a case, Tony." She whispered breathlessly. He knew she was right, but he heaved a frustrated sigh before kissing her one last time. For good measure, he pushed his thumb against her most sensitive spot when he withdrew his hand from its position tangled in her underwear. She moaned in frustration as they disentangled and her feet hit the ground.

Ziva slumped against the wall, trying to get control of her heaving chest and the urge to tackle her partner and rip his clothes off, while Tony answered the phone.

"Probie, you had better be in mortal peril." He growled, while un-tucking the rest of his shirt and letting it fall, hoping it would disguise how hard he was.

"Tony where are you guys? We have a problem." McGee said.

"You lose a microchip, McGeek?" Tony asked snidely.

"DiNozzo, I'm serious." Something in McGee's voice gave Tony pause; he did sound serious.

"Yea, we're on our way back, McGee. See you in ten."

Ziva pushed herself upright and arched a questioning eyebrow at him. "McGee says we got problems. And I don't think our little Timmy is crying wolf." Tony informed her.

Ziva made a face and blinked. "Crying wolf?"

"Yea, you know. Making it up. The boy who cried wolf."

"Why would a boy cry wolf?"

"Because he was a shepherd, Ziva." Tony said, exasperated, as if that detail was overtly obvious. "And he lied about a wolf coming after his sheep."

"McGee has sheep?" Ziva questioned, looking utterly confused, and insanely sexy.

"Of course not. Why would McGee have sheep?"

"I don't know! You are the one who started talking about sheep."

Tony blinked at her. "We're actually having this conversation right now, aren't we?"

Ziva swallowed hard and looked up at him. "It was distracting me." She said pointedly through gritted teeth. Tony grinned and slung an arm around her waist and they started walking, through the rain, toward their safe house squad room.

The experience he just had with Ziva had been better than any of the sex he'd had in his life. And not just because she was simultaneously a fantasy of hotness and spy stealth; it was because she meant so much to him. She was the last kind of woman that he thought he'd end up with for most of his life, but now she was all he wanted.

So yea, the current situation in his pants was less than comfortable, and having to look at her in a soaking wet dress when he knew he couldn't touch wasn't exactly ideal, but he was so in love with her, everything was worth it.

"What are you smiling about?" Ziva asked, still sounding grumpy. Tony chuckled and made a mental note of this, taking it as an excellent sign.

"You." He said simply dropping a kiss to her soaking wet hair.

She looked up at him with a soft, honest, heart wrenching smile. Tony could feel his expression softening as he gazed back at her. "I will not keeping you waiting long." She said quietly.

Tony's face broke out into a massive grin. They had wasted years already, and he just wanted to be hers. And when he finally did get her naked and ended the waiting, _damn_, he knew it would be worth it.

"You better not be crying wolf, Zeevah." He said, smirking to himself and using the arm still around her waist to pull her closer. She twisted to meet his eyes again, and poked him in the ribs.

"I still do not understand what wolves and sheep have to do with," He cut her off by capturing her lips in one last kiss; a kiss he refrained from deepening, but one that so earnest, it gave big bad Mossad officer Ziva David butterflies.

They broke apart and opened the back door to the safe house. Ziva didn't even realize they had reached their destination, but she didn't miss Tony grinning at her as they started up the stairs.

"Think Gibbs' gut is going to know we violated rule number twelve?" he asked.

"Probably." Ziva conceded lightly. "Although he is always catching you checking me out, so I think he suspects."

"Think he's going to get the dirty vibe from how we broke it?" Tony asked, ignoring her second comment.

"Hmm…" Ziva said, tapping a finger to her lips and pretending to ponder the question. She shot a pointed glance at Tony's crotch. "Maybe not. The rain served as a cold shower, did it not, Tony?" she asked in the teasing tone she reserved exclusively for him. The playful tone, laced with enough sexiness to let him know exactly what she meant.

He winked as he tucked his shirt in again. "Don't try and pretend you weren't impressed." He said without missing a beat.

Ziva turned to him as they reached the door and smirked. "Never said I wasn't." she shot back, before patting his cheek and opening the door.

"What took you two so long?" McGee hissed at Tony and Ziva as they entered the squad room. "And why are you so wet?"

"Well," Tony started conversationally, "_I_ was out in the rain. You'd have to ask Ziva what her excuse is, and that's kind of a personal question, don't you think Probie?"

McGee's nose wrinkled and Ziva snickered. "Gross, Tony." McGee said, pounding away at his keyboard. After a minute, he looked at Ziva. "You know that's not what I meant."

She nodded, swung her hair to one side and started ringing it out over a trash can. Tony stared at her, transfixed, when he felt the familiar sensation of a hand connecting with his head.

"Sorry boss." He blurted out of habit.

"Boss? DiNozzo, we've come a long way."

Tony turned to see Sacks holding a tray containing four large coffee cups. His eyes narrowed. "Hey!" he barked. "Only Gibbs and Ziva can hit me and get away with it. Consider this your first and only warning Sacks."

Sacks chuckled and handed him a coffee. "Bosses are on satellite with their bosses. Sober up."

"Oh I think he's sober enough…" Ziva said, giving Tony a smirk. He winked at her and she shivered, remembering how easily he had, uh, _risen_ to the occasion.

McGee watched the exchange between them with the really creepy feeling that he was watching something incredibly more intimate than he actually was. Tony looked like he was about to clear a desk and take Ziva right here, and she was…completely encouraging him, looking at him with prowling, hungry eyes.

"I think you both came from the funny farm." He muttered.

Ziva broke her eye contact with Tony and grinned. "Is that where they keep the wolves and the sheep?" Tony laughed appreciatively, McGee sighed and turned back to his keyboard, and Sacks, too bewildered to even question them, handed Ziva a coffee in silence.

* * *

No one was laughing when Gibbs and Fornell stormed into the room with twin looks of anger on their faces. Gibbs eyes flicked over Tony and Ziva.

"You two have fun swimming?"

"It was raining Gibbs." Ziva said quickly before Tony had time to forget the severity their boss was obviously feeling and make some grossly inappropriate comment. Gibbs rolled his eyes and sat down.

"The ship that the weapons were being on smuggled on was searched by NCIS and the FBI." Fornell said. He turned his glance to the desk Tony and Ziva were sitting side by side on. "Looks like you two were right. Somehow."

"There was something else hidden on the ship?" Ziva clarified.

"Right again, Agent David." Fornell said, casting a look to Gibbs.

Tony and Ziva looked at McGee who shrugged. The three of them instinctively turned to Gibbs. "There _was_ something else on the ship. It's gone now."

"Boss, if it's gone now, how do you know it was ever there?" McGee asked.

"They left evidence, McGee. Evidence like the damn fake uniforms they used to board the ship. Vance is emailing you photos from the crime scene."

"So where does this leave the investigation?" Tony asked. "We're kind of at a dead end until the bait and switch with Varnaz pans out."

"She's the bait," Sacks said, jerking a thumb at Ziva, "Where's the switch?"

Tony opened his mouth to respond and then closed it. "Good point." He said thoughtfully. He looked at Ziva to loop her in on the joke, but she looked serious.

Ziva looked at Gibbs and Fornell. "Someone managed to gain access to a ship that was docked in the Navy Yard, extract something hidden from that ship, and leave without being detected. And they left evidence at the scene."

"Pretty careless for someone who could pull that off." Tony remarked.

"Not careless," Ziva said slowly, "They did it on purpose."

"Why would they let us know there's more to it than small arms?" Sacks challenged.

"They call them terrorists for a reason." Gibbs remarked, nodding at Ziva. "David, tell me why."

"They want to start chatter. Incite fear. We report this to Homeland Security and the threat level goes to red. They want people to panic." She paused, thinking. "I have seen Hamas use similar tactics. They wait just long enough for the fear to begin to subside before carrying out the act."

"Terrorists and sociopaths all rolled into one. What's not to like?" Tony murmured.

"So if Varnaz is our guy and he's supposed to be here, it wasn't him who robbed the ship." McGee mused. "So that means he has an extensive network at his disposal."

"Are we sure Varnaz actually _is_ our guy?" Sacks asked.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh sure, _now_ you want to give people the benefit of the doubt." He muttered. Gibbs shot him a glare and Tony looked away quickly.

"It is Varnaz," Ziva said quietly, "I am sure of it. Letting us know something is being planned suggests a level of arrogance. You have to think you are smarter than your enemy if you are going to taunt them."

"Varnaz thinks he can pull it off." Fornell concluded.

"Maybe he can," Ziva mused with a frown, "He has certainly managed to avoid a number of authorities," she paused and frowned, "Actually _all_ of the authorities."

"Not anymore," Gibbs said definitively, securing his gun at his side, "Not if I can help it." He jerked his head at Fornell and they headed for the stairs. "DiNozzo, David. Get some sleep. You have to go to work tomorrow, remember?"

A thousand fantasies involving Ziva, a desk and a ruler flashed through Tony's head. He turned to his partner and smirked. "Ziva as my secretary. How could I forget?"

"_Lina_ as your secretary." Ziva reminded him. She returned his sly grin with a hinting smile of her own and took two steps towards him before leaning in and whispering against his ear. "If you want to role play, Tony, all you need to do is ask."

She gave an unfocused wave to McGee and Sacks before slinking towards the door and disappearing. Sacks stood next to Tony, both of them watching her go.

"I gotta say you are one lucky dude, DiNozzo." Sacks admitted.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're smoking, Sacks." He said lightly, clapping the other agent on the shoulder. "Agent David and I are partners. And what you're suggesting would be highly unprofessional."

Sacks, clearly not believing him, raised his eyebrows and muttered, "Uh-huh, back in Narnia, aren't you DiNozzo?"

Tony shrugged casually for McGee's benefit, because really, McPrude was probably traumatized enough for one day, and then lowered his voice. "But if what you were suggesting were true? I'd be the luckiest freakin' guy on the planet."

Sacks smirked at him and shook his head. "I'm heading to bed too. Someone has to get up and secure a fake office so you two can play secretary."

"Later!" McGee called from his desk without looking up from his computer. Tony knew he should go to sleep, but he was too amped up from the events of the evening to consider it.

"Whatcha working on, McProbius?" he asked, sidling over to McGee's desk and squinting at the computer screen.

"Gibbs wants me to hack into Mossad." McGee said flatly. His fingers didn't stop flying over the keys. "He's looking for ever piece of intel they got on Terzian nine years ago."

"I knew it. If he's worried, then I should definitely be worried. Ziva's holding something back about Terzian, I can feel it." Tony said.

McGee looked at him and blinked slowly a few times before explaining himself. "It was nine years ago, Tony. Not even Ziva's memory is that great." He paused, and finally stopped typing, before looking at Tony.

"You think it worked? Word will get back to Varnaz that Lina's back?" he asked.

Tony's eyes clouded and he rubbed his chin before answering. "I'm more concerned with how he'll react when he does find out."

McGee decided to press him. "You don't think he'll take the bait?"

Tony sighed. "More afraid he will, Probie." He said in a tight voice.

McGee noticed his jaw tense significantly. "Why are you so uncomfortable with this?" he asked.

Tony's head snapped up to look sharply at McGee. "Forgive me if I don't love the idea of using my partner as bait." He spit out before turning on his heel and heading for the door. "I'm going to bed."

* * *

Sacks was still chuckling to himself as he made his way to his room on the other side of the building. He never thought it could happen, but he was actually starting to _like_ these guys.

"All set for the morning, Agent Sacks?" Fornell asked, appearing at his side.

"Ready to roll at zero six. I'm just hesitant to set up the cameras." He quipped.

Fornell eyed him. "You're starting to sound like DiNozzo." He warned.

"Oh don't tell me you haven't noticed!" Sacks exclaimed, looking at his boss. "Tony and Ziva? That is _not _just a cover, and it's _definitely_ not just a partnership. There's something else going on with those two."

Fornell did not appear particularly blown away by this revelation. "I think that's pretty obvious, Agent Sacks. Just don't taunt Gibbs with it."

"Nothing to taunt about," Gibbs said, appearing on Sacks' otherside (how did they _both_ always do that?). "Gibbs already knows."

Even Fornell was surprised to hear that. "You know? And you're letting them…?" he trailed off, and Gibbs smiled. Fornell was well acquainted with his rules.

"Hell, Tobias, I've known for years. First time I was with those two in Cartagena, they hadn't seen each other in four months. It was the biggest smile I've ever seen on DiNozzo's face when he laid eyes on Ziva." Gibbs shook his head at the memory. "Besides Fornell, I'm not stupid."

Sacks looked like Gibbs had just presented him with a million dollars. "They're _dating_?" he exclaimed, incredulous.

Gibbs and Fornell both slapped the back of his head, and with a troubled look at each of them, Sacks darted into his room.

* * *

Tony's face fell when he strolled into his "office" the following morning. His office looked extremely impressive, since it was actually a conference room temporarily turned in to his office, but the point was, it was empty and Tony had been expecting Ziva.

"Aren't secretaries supposed to show up before the boss?" he grumbled, tossing his briefcase full of fake documents on a chair.

"Who do you think put the coffee on your desk, _Aaron_?" Ziva asked pointedly. Tony's head shot up to see her leaning against the door frame. She was wearing some kind of draped blouse that showed a tiny bit of cleavage and piqued his imagination. It was tucked into the tightest pencil skirt he'd ever seen, and her outfit was topped off with seamed stockings and heels.

"This is what you meant when you said business casual, wasn't it," Ziva grinned and licked her lips, "Boss?" She said boss in a slightly rougher tone, and being called that, by this woman, in that outfit? Tony felt a dangerous tightening in his pants and willed it away, but couldn't resist giving her a nice, long, top to bottom wardrobe check.

"That, Lina, is _exactly_ what I meant. Until you change your mind about naked Wednesday." He said.

"I could still be persuaded." She said casually, turning around and walking the opposite direction. Tony whistled appreciatively as he watched her go, and made a mental note to do something outrageously nice for Abby when he got home.

"Lina, I need my phone messages!" he bellowed, unable to resist. Ziva reappeared, carrying a large paper bag.

"Work before breakfast?" she asked quizzically. "Are you feeling alright?" She opened the bag in her "office" which was attached to Tony's separated only by double doors he never intended on closing. Tony watched in fascination as she emptied the contents of her bag onto two plates. In his mind's eye, they were in his kitchen in DC, and she was back in his button down- and nothing else.

Ziva picked up the plates and turned towards Tony's desk, figuring she would pull up a chair and eat at the other side, like they so often did at work. When she spun around, she noticed the softness in his eyes as he watched her.

"You brought me breakfast." It wasn't a question, but Ziva inferred that he wanted an answer.

"I brought us breakfast." She corrected, handing him a plate. "I was hungry when I woke up, and I find myself thinking us instead of me quite frequently these days."

She was smiling, and Tony was about to lean across his desk and kiss her when the sound of her name stopped them both.

"Lina?" The hairs on the back of Ziva's neck stood up. She glanced at Tony and both sets of eyes moved toward the sound.

And standing in the doorway of Lina the secretary's office was Varnaz Terzian.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Ugh, we're so not happy with this chapter. It was impossible to write for some reason, and we don't like the way it turned it out. **

**BUT we're almost done with chapter 8, which is much better, and should be up tomorrow or Friday. **

**AS always...PLEASE review? **

Tony had to hand it to her; Ziva was a pro. Whatever she was thinking or feeling, she didn't show it. She blinked slowly, as if trying to place him, before her face broke out in a huge smile. A few years ago, Tony might have believed that smile was an actual expression of happiness, but now he knew her well enough to know it hadn't really reached her eyes. When Ziva's smile was genuine, her eyes were wider; they narrowed when she was faking it.

"Varnaz?" she exclaimed, as if she couldn't believe he was standing in front of her. She rose from her chair and crossed the room to him.

"Ah," he said in an accent Tony couldn't place, "It _is_ you, Lina."

Ziva leaned in and they kissed on both cheeks, earning an eye roll from Tony. He _hated_ the double cheek kiss; really, what could be more pretentious than that?

"Querido," Ziva started, coming off the second cheek, "How long has it been?" Tony swallowed hard as he watched her. She was even standing with allure. Her left leg crossed over right, she was leaning in slightly towards Varnaz, and even that proximity made Tony's skin crawl.

Ignoring the question, Varnaz turned his attention to Tony, who smiled tightly and nodded at him. Ziva gave a tinkling little laugh, and rushed between them. "How silly of me." She cooed in a very un-Ziva like tone. Tony bit back a smile and made a note to remind her to try acting if Gibbs ever fired them.

"Varnaz Terzian meet Aaron Cambridge." They shook hands tentatively. Ziva looked at the ground to hide her smile when she saw the expression on Tony's face as he regarded Varnaz. She had seen that look before. Every single time a male, other than McGee, Vance, Gibbs or Ducky approached her.

"Aaron Cambridge." Tony repeated, shaking his hand and squeezing just a little too hard. "Department of Defense, great to meet you."

"Varnaz Terizan," he said in a cool, calm voice; the polar opposite of Tony's self assured, boisterous tone. Varnaz said nothing else, offered no personal information. Tony reminded himself to be cool; as much he loved watching Ziva in action, there was something about this guy that his intuition scream.

"Aaron is my boss." Ziva offered. She put on a sweet tone and turned to Tony. "Actually, Aaron, would you mind if we took a quick walk?"

"Of course not, Lina." Tony replied easily, flashing a grin. "Things are under control here for now."

"Oh thank you querido." She purred, sounding so unlike herself that Tony had to fight the urge to burst out laughing. "I won't be long."

Tony watched in silent amusement as she led Varnaz out of his office, through hers, and around a corner before her voice rang out again. "Sorry querido, I forgot my phone. I am not supposed to leave the office without it. Wait here, yes?"

She hurried back into Tony's office and closed the door behind her. He cocked his head to the side and smirked.

Ziva held up one finger. "DiNozzo, I am warning you," she hissed, "One mocking word, and you will regret it!"

Tony was about to mock her anyway, but given the events of last night, regret suddenly meant so much more than losing a hand or most of his toes. It was Ziva's turn to smirk as the flicker of recognition reached his eyes. She nodded and gave his tie a slight tug, pulling him toward her.

"Exactly." She murmured in his ear. Okay, so Tony wasn't going to mock her in this moment. It was a golden opportunity to have something to hold over her head, but he was fairly certain he wouldn't survive without experiencing her mouth on his again, so he exercised rare restraint.

She busied herself clipping a tiny recording device to her bra strap, and Tony busied himself looking down her shirt. "Enjoying the view, Tony?" she murmured, securing her recorder in place and pulling her top back into place.

"Lina…" he warned mockingly. "Good employees don't waste their bosses' time asking questions they already know the answers to."

Ziva rewarded his teasing with one of his favorite Ziva expressions; the raise of her eyebrows, slight turn of head, and twist of her mouth in the same direction. "Are you going to smack me for it?" she asked.

"Not on the head." He said with a grin so suggestive it would have made anyone blush. With that, Tony place his hands on the small of back, low enough for them to graze her ass and pushed her toward the door. "Go get 'em tiger."

* * *

Tony sat at his desk with the receiving end of Ziva's recorder, listening as she and Varnaz made their way out of the building…silently. Tony's brow furrowed in confusion; for a guy who had been hung up on a girl for nine years, you'd think he'd have more to say.

"It is good to see you." It was Ziva's voice that broke the silence. "You certainly look well."

There was a long pause before Varnaz spoke again, and in that pause Tony's gut clenched. He'd never understood Gibbs more than in that moment, when he decided, no _knew_, without a shred of proof or evidence that something was wrong.

"Eduardo saw you with your…boss." Varnaz said.

"I was wondering how you knew that I had returned."

"I am still wondering why you left." He said shortly, with an audible edge to his tone. Unable to see them, it gave Tony an unrelenting sense of trepidation, but as the one in the conversation, Ziva wasn't worried.

She shot Varnaz a mysterious smile. "A friend had a yacht. Carpe diem." She said casually.

"Was this a male friend, Lina?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Ziva gave a calculating eye roll and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "It was nine years ago. What does it matter?" She patted his arm and kept talking. "After that, I decided to take advantage of my mother's American citizenship and moved to the States. I was translating in D.C. until I was transferred to Cartagena."

"How fascinating." Varnaz replied in a biting tone. Ziva blinked, taken aback. Whatever reaction she had been expecting, it was not this.

"You do not sound too happy to see me…" she trailed off, keeping her tone light and teasing.

"Ah yes, I forgot. The world turns for Lina Aperador. Now that you're back, the sun can shine again. I should be thrilled."

Ziva stopped walking and took a step toward him, improvising and invading his some of his space. It always worked on Tony, didn't it? "Tell me," she said slowly, "Why you hunted me down if you are going to be so rude?"

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Lina. I don't mean to behave harshly, but when Eduardo told me he saw you, I did not expect him to say it was draped all over another man."

Ziva faked a throaty laugh and waved her hand again. "Nonsense, querido, I was draped over no one. I am just very friendly, you know that." She gave him her best dazzling smile. "And Aaron is the only person I know in Cartagena," she lowered her eyes and looked up at him through her lashes, "Except for you."

Varnaz chuckled. "I forgot how charming you are, Lina Aperador." He said in a softer tone.

"So you are happy to see me." Ziva concluded.

"Of course I am." Another pause. "But surprised at how garish you look, Lina. These tight clothes, this makeup! You look so American."

"I have been in America." Ziva pointed out good naturedly, using every ounce of willpower to keep her voice engaging.

"And that is an excuse to walk around looking like some kind of whore?" he spit out in a venomous tone. This gave Ziva pause; if anyone called Ziva David a whore, she would deliver a swift kick to their testicles, but Lina Aperador was not that kind of woman.

So Ziva-as-Lina resisted her natural instincts and chose instead to stop short, turn on her heel and stomp away haughtily. When she snuck a glance over her shoulder, he was watching her leave.

* * *

"So I have not completely ruined the mission." She concluded after she finished telling Tony the story. She frowned and ran a hand through her hair. "Not yet at least."

Tony chuckled in an attempt to act normal and cover his increasing sense of trepidation. "Trust me, Zi. He'll be back. How could he resist you?"

"It is not _me_ he is resisting." Ziva snapped. "It is this ridiculous cover, Lina. _I _would never behave this way." She sighed in frustration; she used to enjoy going under cover and seeing how well she could pose as someone else, but these days she just wanted to be Ziva.

Tony smiled and nudged her with his elbow. "Yea, I know," he murmured softly, "That's why I keep you around, David."

Ziva was more touched by his comments than she cared to admit to either of them, but she leaned into him anyway, unable to keep the corners of her mouth from turning up slightly.

"I love the way you dress as Lina, though." Tony said, his tone making it beyond obvious that he was joking.

"And I thought your Navy uniform was quite sexy…" she trailed off and pretended to look embarrassed, "Oh wait. That was McGee wasn't it?"

Tony was about to drag it out into a full-fledged banter, which felt more like foreplay than bickering these days when Lina's cover cell phone rang. They both stared at it for a second before Ziva mentally shook herself and picked it up.

"Hello?" she answered. After a pause she covered the receiver with her hand, and hissed, "It's him!" to Tony. She started speaking to him in Spanish that Tony couldn't follow, so he watched her facial expressions with a mounting sense of concern.

Ziva hung up the phone, and turned back to Tony, blinking in confusion. "He wants to have dinner." She stated, her brow furrowing. "I do not understand this at all. He was apologetic, and very sweet. Much more like I remember him nine years ago."

"When's the date?" Tony said, attempting to be casual, despite the tightness they could both hear in his voice.

Ziva swallowed and forced herself to look him in the eyes, unsure of why this moment carried so much weight. "Tonight."

Tony closed the gap between them with two steps and stood in front of her, absently hooking his index finger into the pocket of her skirt. "Please be careful." He whispered without breaking her gaze. She nodded slowly and leaned toward him slightly.

"I am not the same person I was nine years ago, Tony." She said, her voice as soft as his was. "I have much more incentive not to die."

He couldn't help but smile at her blunt delivery. "You better go tell Gibbs and Fornell." He said with a smile.

* * *

After she'd left Tony sat down to make the call he'd been planning since three minutes after Varnaz showed up.

"Ducky? It's Tony." He said when Ducky picked up the phone.

"Anthony!" Ducky boomed cheerfully. "How are you my dear fellow?"

"Peachy, Duck." Tony said.

"Ah…" Ducky remarked. "Your tone indicates that you are anything but. What's the trouble? Not enjoying Cartagena?"

"I was until about twenty minutes ago. It's this Varnaz guy, Ducky." Tony said, worrying for a moment that he sounded stupid saying this out, but shaking it off. "There's something off about him. Something that's just not right, you know?"

"Did Ziva tell you that?" Ducky asked.

Tony sighed with frustration he didn't realize he felt until just then. "Ziva hasn't said much of anything about him. Or what happened nine years ago, and I don't like it. There's something wrong here, Ducky, I feel it in my gut. And if I ignore it, and something happens…" he stopped before he said something he would regret and let Ducky fill in the blanks.

Luckily for Tony, Ducky was tactful, and although he knew full well the feelings that motivated Tony's concern, he chose not to vocalize them. "Go on." Was all he said.

"He showed up here this morning, which is weird in and of itself, right? It's too soon. We only set the trap for him last night. I mean, Ducky, he didn't even wait twelve hours. And when he got here, he was rude, and then he'd apologize, and then he'd switch right back." Tony paused, searching for the apt description. "It was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. freakin' Hyde." He muttered.

"Hm," Ducky murmured, "That does seem odd, given his fascination with her during their previous encounter."

"She stayed in character the whole time. She mentioned he didn't seem happy to see her and Varnaz freaked out. Said the world didn't turn for her, or something. Then he apologized, told her she was charming. Then he called her a whore, and ten minutes later, he's on the phone, asking her to dinner." Tony paused, forcing himself to take a few calming breaths and relax. If he clenched his jaw any tighter it would break. "Something's not right, Duck." He repeated.

"I believe you're quite right, Tony." Ducky mused. "I'll need some more information to complete a thorough assessment, but my initial guess would be that Mr. Terizan has maintained a psychological fixation on Agent David for nearly a decade."

Ducky paused and Tony clenched his free hand into a fist. What ifs and worst cases were popping up in his head at lightning speed, each one more horrifying than the previous scenario. He shook the nightmarish images away and focused on Ducky.

"If that's the case, he has likely imagined all sorts of grand reunions between them and created a fantasy, which she shattered by not behaving in the manner he thinks she should. He is hostile toward her when she deviates from the version of her that he created; the version that fuels his obsession."

Ducky could practically hear the frown in Tony's voice when he spoke again. "Well that sounds nice and dangerous."

"Tell me, Tony, not to undermine your concern for your partner, but is there any reason you're particularly troubled?" Ducky asked gently.

Instead of answering immediately, Tony heaved a sigh that spoke volumes. "She said it herself just now. She's not the same person she was nine years ago, Ducky." Tony confided heavily. "I mean, yea, she's still got the moves, and the stealth, and she could kick my ass back to 1999, but she's not as willing to throw her life on the line, and even less willing to risk any of ours and that makes her vulnerable."

Ducky waited silently; there was something else hanging unsaid, and he wanted to give Tony the chance to say it.

"I'm mostly worried because of us." He blurted out suddenly. Ducky smiled and nodded to himself; Tony forged ahead. "Mossad, yea, you might die. Part of the deal, but not NCIS. I get the feeling she's trying to watch all of our backs, and not her own, or keep up this strength for us so we don't worry, or…_something_."

"Is there any way we could get more information on her mission nine years ago?" Ducky asked. "It may be helpful in establishing a more comprehensive profile."

Tony was silent for a moment in thought. What he was thinking was generally a bad idea, but it might be the only way. "I'll get back to you on that Ducky." He said thoughtfully, trying to decide who to call for this particular favor.

* * *

NCIS Director Leon Vance was worrying. He had been worrying since Gibbs and his team took off for Colombia. He had even been worrying at home, which did not make his wife happy. But Leon Vance had a gut feeling, and that did not make him happy. He preferred to rely on intellect and leave the intuition to Gibbs, but he couldn't help it; something was telling him to worry.

His cell phone rang intrusively, almost making him jump. Vance shook his head at his own anxiousness, and thought for the millionth time since Gibbs had left that he couldn't wait for this to be over.

"Vance." He said shortly.

"Director." Came DiNozzo's voice. Vance paused, surprised, wondering what had already gone wrong that had DiNozzo calling instead of Gibbs.

"Gibbs doesn't know I'm calling you." Tony told the Director. They were both surprised at the strength in his voice; his tone left little room for argument.

"What can I do for you, Agent DiNozzo?"

"I'm worried about Ziva." Tony said bluntly. "Something is going on with this Varnaz guy and she doesn't seem to want to tell anyone."

"Ask nicely." Vance suggested, ready to hang up when something in Tony's voice changed his mind.

"Director Vance, _please_. If you help me, it'll be a win- win. I watch my partner's back and your agency has a much better chance of preventing a terrorist attack if we have all the available intel."

Vance sighed; Gibbs had taught DiNozzo well. And damn it, the kid had a good point. "What did you have in mind, DiNozzo?" he asked dryly.

"I want a face to face with Director David, and I don't want Gibbs or Ziva knowing about it until it's over. They can kill me then, but I need to talk to him."

Vance was about to turn him down, but he knew the relationship between Tony and Ziva was at best edging toward intimate, but more likely already there. Frankly as long as they didn't cause any problems, he didn't care; it was Jethro's problem. But given what Vance knew, it was unlikely this wasn't every bit as serious as DiNozzo was making it out to be.

"I'll set up a satellite conference." Vance conceded.

Tony let out the breath he had been holding. "Thank you Director."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Our apologies for the shamless abrupt, cliffhangerish ending.

**Review anyway? **

Anthony DiNozzo was a thorn in Director David's side. And while Director David was merely irritated when Vance called him urgently, demanding he make himself available for a satellite conference, it was seeing Vance and DiNozzo on a split screen that pushed him from irritated to infuriated.

"Leon," he said, scowling, "You did not inform me I would be speaking with my daughter's esteemed colleague."

Vance suppressed a smile and responded with information he knew his old friend wasn't expecting. "It was Agent DiNozzo that requested this conference."

Tony took that at his cue and plastered a mocking grin on his face. "Hey there, Director. Don't worry, you're not alone. This is equally as painful for me as it is for you, especially considering how well our last meeting went, but this is important."

Tony wasn't surprised when Eli didn't respond; instead he simply turned a questioning eye to Vance and waited for an explanation.

"Agent DiNozzo and Agent David are part of a team currently on a joint investigation with the FBI in Cartagena, Colombia, Eli." Vance said. "Using weapons as a cover, something was smuggled from Cartagena to DC on a Navy ship, and then removed. We're thinking possible terrorist actions, maybe even preparing for an attack. Ziva's gone back undercover as Lina Aperador to find out if Varnaz Terzian is involved."

Tony didn't think it was possible, but the unflappable Director David lost any semblance of control over his emotions. His face visibly paled, and he let out a string of words in Hebrew that had to be curses; it made Tony blush, and he didn't' even know what the man was actually saying.

"Excuse me, Director." Tony piped up, waving his hands. "I don't have a whole lot of time. If Ziva finds out I'm talking to you without telling her…" he paused and smiled fondly, "Well, I think we both know your daughter could kill me with any household object and make it look like an accident."

"Yet you are worried about her?"

"Even more so now that I see you're worried too. I know there's something she's not telling me."

Eli looked amused. "You requested this conference because you think she is keeping information from you?" he asked in a taunting tone.

"Look," Tony said, his jaw tensing, "I met this guy, and seeing the way he looked at her made my skin crawl. Something is not right, and I can't," he cut himself off before he said something he'd regret, and took a deep breath. "I need you to read me in on Varnaz. And I need everything you've got."

Vance leaned back in his seat in MTAC, impressed. DiNozzo might have occasionally been a loose cannon, but he had nerves of steel. Even Vance had to admit he had underestimated him.

"Agent DiNozzo, as much as I appreciate your… _concern_ for my daughter, I am not about to provide you the details of a classified Mossad team." Eli said.

Tony's jaw clenched so tightly he thought it might break and he flexed a hand in and out of a fist. "Look, Director, I get it. And I appreciate the whole big bad Mossad Director, espionage expert thing, but this is not negotiable."

Director David's eyes clouded. "Excuse me?" he asked.

"If you give a crap about your daughter, _at all_," Tony said, losing control of his previously even tone, "You will tell me everything I need to know before this guy kills her or carries out a terrorist attack and kills us all!" Tony stopped before he started shouting and tried to calm down. "Please." He added, in case it would help his case.

Eli studied him carefully, feeling like a father for the first time in a long time. "As you wish, Agent DiNozzo." He finally conceded. Tony nodded his thanks and tried to prepare himself for whatever was coming.

"Terizan was obsessed with Ziva." Eli said flatly. He paused, turned to his computer and hit a few buttons before turning his attention back to Tony. "He is the son of a rich and worldly Muslim, and a superficial French beauty, which was hard enough to reconcile, even before he became interested in radical Islam."

"How is he a jihadist if he doesn't abide by the rules?" Vance interjected.

"That, my friend, is one of the many things we do not know about him. Our profiler's best guess was that his affiliation with whatever terrorist organization he is working for is a trade off in his mind. He can collect wealth and woman while enjoying cigars and aged scotch and remain a good Muslim because he is fighting for the cause."

"So the guy is a religious extremist and an international playboy." Tony remarked, rubbing his forehead. "So why Ziva?"

Eli sighed heavily. "For awhile, my daughter did not know why we changed the course of her original mission and pulled her from out of Cartagena. She believed it is because we thought Varnaz would lead us to answers, but I knew that was not the case. He is far too careful."

There was a heavy pause in the room, and Tony tried to ignore the tight panicky feeling settling in his chest.

"She was removed from the mission on my direct orders when the Officer responsible for background information on Terzian discovered the other girl he developed a similar obsession with," Eli held up a photo, and Tony edged closer to the screen to see it. He studied the image and sucked in a breath. The girl in the photograph was practically a carbon copy of Ziva.

"She also bears a striking resemblance to his mother." Eli said. "Agent DiNozzo, I pulled my daughter from this mission because I became convinced that as his obsession grew, Terzian would act out, and if he could not have her, I do not think he would have let her get away. Perhaps if I hadn't…" he trailed off.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "I guess sometimes blood is thicker than country." He said, earning a sharp look from Eli.

"Of course it was!" Eli snapped. "No father, no matter the cause, would have taken any chance she would end up like the other girl."

Vance considered stepping in and ending the conversation. His agents were in the field, away from him, and clearly had some kind of personal stake in one another. DiNozzo already looked like he was about to start breaking kneecaps, and Vance didn't want to fuel the fire, but before he could intervene, Tony spoke again, in a low, tight voice.

"What did he do to her?"

Eli swallowed, looking disturbed for the first time Leon could recall. "He was never tied to any of it. He was even allegedly in Morocco when she disappeared from Dubai, where they met. But there is no question he is the one."

"What did he do?" Tony repeated through clenched teeth.

"He held her for exactly 16 days, during which time he raped and tortured her endlessly. When it was over, he mutilated her, before strangling her almost to death and reviving her three times before ending her life. I commissioned a copy of the police report and when I saw the images of what he did," Eli's voice broke slightly, "Never for Ziva."

In Tony's mind's eye, images of Ziva after 16 days of rape and torture played out like a movie. There was a moment when he actually felt the threat of vomiting, but he grabbed for a water bottle and forced it down, avoiding any physical reaction.

"You said for awhile she didn't know." Tony recalled, hardly realizing he was speaking out loud.

"She must have discovered it when she accessed the case file a few days ago." Eli said, nodding as he verified this on his computer. "There are still ways she can access missions assigned to her in our database."

Tony was unprepared for the surge of rage that washed over him. It must have been showing on his face because even Eli looked surprised. "Why the _fuck_ didn't she tell me?" he exploded. "I'm her partner, and I'm supposed to have her back, which is pretty god damn difficult if she won't let me!"

"I think you know exactly why she did not tell you." Eli said quietly, the sudden antithesis to Tony's anger.

Tony snorted. "Oh yea, I forgot about her training. Well congratulations, Daddy Director, you trained her well. There's nothing that girl won't do to prevent a terrorist attack, including a suicide mission."

Without taking the bait, Eli showed the hint of a smile. "And there is nothing she would not do for you, including hiding something like this, if it meant keeping you safe."

"That is officially not an excuse anymore." He said, his face stony.

Eli chuckled. "And you point to her training." He said, shaking his head. He fixed Tony with a pointed look. "She certainly has forgotten vital parts of that."

As angry as he was with Ziva at that moment, Tony couldn't help himself from using that remark as a tipping point for Things He Wanted to Say to Eli David; Act One.

"If you try to manipulate this, to help her remember her _training_, in order to stamp the feelings out of her, I will hunt you down. If you try to use this as a reason she needs to go back to Israel, I will follow her, cuff her to me and pull her back to DC if I have to."

The look on the Director's face was a clear indication both of those ideas had crossed his mind, which only encouraged Tony to keep talking.

"She's not a weapon, _Director_." He practically spit out. "She is a person. A pretty amazing person and if you tried treating her that way, maybe she'd still be talking to you. Thank you Director Vance." He finished, striding away from the screen and checking his watch. If he hurried, he could be there when she had dinner with him. There was no way he was letting her out of sight now, regardless of how well she could take care of herself.

* * *

Gibbs was sitting at the bar of a dimly lit restaurant when his phone rang. He had been feeling immensely grateful that Ziva and Varnaz had gotten their check, and this "date" was almost over. Just watching the two of them gave him the creeps.

"Yea?" he answered quietly.

"You need to watch your boy." Vance replied without pleasantries.

Gibbs smiled to himself. "Hello to you too, Leon."

"I just got off a satellite conference with DiNozzo and Ziva's father."

And there it was; the problem Gibbs couldn't specify but knew was coming. Of course there was bound to be something that pushed DiNozzo over the edge, but if he was this willing to betray Gibbs' trust because of Ziva, maybe he had been wrong about trusting them to make it work.

"Eli filled us in on Terzian's obsession with Ziva, and the girl he raped, tortured and killed in Dubai, who looks just like Ziva. I need you to keep DiNozzo from doing something stupid, Gibbs. I mean it."

"I heard you Leon." Gibbs said calmly.

"I will not have this agency responsible for failing to stop a terrorist attack because two agents put their personal relationship before the good of the order!" Vance barked into the phone.

Gibbs remained calm, mostly because he knew how much it irritated Vance. "Yea, got that one, Director," He said, "They'll be fine." Gibbs threw a few bills on the bar and slid off of his stool as Ziva and Terzian walked by and out of the front door. He let Vance continue to lecture him as he followed them outside, just in time to see Varnaz lean in to kiss Ziva.

Gibbs was surprised when she jerked her head away at the last minute, her face angled just noticeably enough that Gibbs assumed she was looking at something. He followed her line of vision, and rolled his eyes. Maybe Vance was right and DiNozzo was determined to land in hot water tonight, because he was leaning against a bus stop across the street, watching.

* * *

Abby had sent the results she had gotten back so far from the evidence found on the ship, and dutifully sent it to McGee. It was this evidence that McGee was going over with Fornell and Sacks when Tony, Ziva and Gibbs returned to the safe house, and Gibbs broke the calm of their discussion by slamming the door so hard McGee was afraid it would fall off its hinges.

Gibbs and Tony both looked really pissed, and Ziva looked baffled, and maybe slightly guilty. "Uh oh." McGee muttered under his breath.

It was Ziva who spoke first. "Gibbs, I am sorry. I faltered, but it will not happen again."

Gibbs looked at her with the classic Gibbs _'What the hell is that?' _look, the look that could easily be placed in a dictionary next to 'incredulous'. "That was the first time I've ever seen you slip undercover. It might be the first time you've ever slipped in the field!" Gibbs barked.

Ziva opened her mouth to apologize again, but thought better of it. "I know," she said quietly, "But it was only a mistake, Gibbs. It will not happen again." She sighed and turned to Tony. "I thought we all agreed you would not be there!" she hissed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ziva." Tony said, shocking everyone but Gibbs with his harsh tone. "Did I keep you in the dark about something? Did I just take this partnership into my own hands and forget to tell you something pretty damn important?"

Ziva's eyes narrowed, but Gibbs spoke before she could reply. "He agreed not to go until he and Director Vance had a satellite conference with Director David."

The words seemed to sit in the air for just a minute before being absorbed by Ziva, who reacted like Tony had just punched her in the gut. "You talked to my father?" she whispered. "How dare you!"

Tony laughed humorlessly. "How dare I? Well gee, Ziva, I'm sorry that I give a shit when some crazy, mysterious, uncatchable terrorist is looking at you like he's a few minutes from giving you the basement treatment!"

McGee blinked a few times and looked at Fornell to see if he knew what they were talking about, but his face looked just about as lost as McGee's.

Ziva put two fingers on the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes for a moment. "He told you." She said flatly.

"He also emailed Vance a copy of the police report from Dubai. Our good Director was kind enough to forward them to me if you'd like to take a look at your doppelganger that was chopped and mutilated by your man Varnaz!"

It was then that Gibbs changed his game plan. Tony going around him to Vance was enough to make Gibbs reconsider his leniency with rule number twelve, but as soon as those words left Tony's mouth, Gibbs knew he would waive the rule.

He recognized the fear in Tony's voice, and he'd only ever heard it expressed with that kind of panic once before, when Tony was sitting in a jail cell. _"But you know those are the breaks when you're a homicidal maniac dumping butchered woman's remains in the woods in the middle of the night." _Tony's tone when he said that had stayed with Gibbs for a long time, but his tone when he was talking to Ziva would probably downright haunt him.

In that moment, he earned his one and only chance to break a rule. In that moment, it was impossible not to see how much more he cared about Ziva than himself.

"David, men's room. Wait there." Gibbs snapped.

"What the hell?" Sacks whispered to McGee, but Ziva just turned on her heel and left, as if there was nothing remotely strange about it, leaving Gibbs and Tony facing each other. If either of them noticed McGee was sitting at his desk, and Sacks and Fornell were hovering around him, they didn't acknowledge it.

"You went behind my back, DiNozzo." Gibbs said harshly. "Why?"

"Because I thought I had to." Tony replied, his tone strained by his clenched jaw. "I didn't have time to explain it to you and deal with making excuses, telling lies, or get caught breaking a rule."

"Are you breaking a rule?" Gibbs asked, looking him dead in the eye.

"No. But Ziva and I are headed somewhere serious." Tony said matter of factly. "And you can't stop us Gibbs. It's not because I don't get that you're the boss of this team, but you're not the boss of my entire life."

Gibbs arched an eyebrow, but refrained from commenting, so Tony crossed his arms over his chest and drew his proverbial line in the sand. "When we figure out our situation, you can't say no." he told Gibbs.

"Oh yes I can." Gibbs shot back.

"No!" Tony exclaimed. "That's not happening, Gibbs. Because I've done everything right! I have been loyal, and I have _killed_ myself proving your theories, listening to your gut and toeing your line. I'm supposed to your guy, and you don't punish your guy because he's _finally_ happy."

McGee's jaw dropped at the two simultaneously dropped bombshells. Tony was capable of standing up to Gibbs because it sounded like Tony knew he was in love with Ziva, which McGee had not expected.

"You done yet, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, sounding exasperated. Tony didn't say anything, so Gibbs continued. "I said I could stop you, Tony, not that that I would. This isn't exactly a surprise to me."

The slight smirk Gibbs had been wearing turned into a smile at Tony's expression. When his senior agent didn't speak, a testament to just how taken aback he was, Gibbs clapped him on the shoulder. "You two are good at a lot of things, but hiding this from me for five years?"

"How could you possibly know things had changed?" Tony squeaked out.

Gibbs smiled again. "I was at your apartment last month and there was _hummus_ in your fridge. Christ, DiNozzo, I've known this was coming for years."

"And you're not going to fire us? Or kill us?" Tony asked, utterly dumbfounded.

Gibbs shrugged, as if he hadn't spent countless hours poring over what it would mean for him and for the team. "I could, but you make each other better, and God knows I can't have you getting worse. But this is your only get out of jail free card. You break another rule,"

Tony cut him off. "You'll kill me?" he guessed.

Gibbs chuckled and nodded. He raised his arm and pointed up the stairs, in the direction Ziva had gone. "DiNozzo, men's room."

"Uh, that's not a good idea boss." Tony said, looking down for the first time in their conversation. "I am so…furious with her right now." He sighed and looked up, unprepared for the empathy in Gibbs' gaze.

"I know," his boss told him, "But you don't get a rule waived just so you can screw it up." Tony held his gaze for a minute, and then nodded resolutely.

"Hey," Gibbs called as Tony started walking towards the men's room. Tony, the stand in son, turned to face his makeshift father again. Gibbs jerked his head in the direction Tony had been walking, where Ziva was waiting, and smiled. "That's good work, Anthony."

* * *

Ziva was sitting on the bathroom counter, next to a sink, fuming irrationally. She knew she was at fault; she should have told Tony everything, should have trusted him, should have many things, and probably shouldn't have many more.

But Tony, of all people, knew about her father, what she had been through, and what she feared about him. He should have known better. She heard him coming up the stairs and counted every exaggerated stomp before he charged through the door and leaned against the wall opposite her.

For awhile, neither of them spoke, there was only stillness and staring, and as angry as they were, a part of each of them was resisting the urge to skip the verbal sparring and use the charged, volatile tension festering between them for more physical pursuits.

"If you are worried about me, you can come to me." Ziva said indignantly. "Instead of distracting me with sex before running to my father of all people."

Tony raised his eyes to meet her gaze, looking murderous. "Don't you _dare_ take that tone with me, like this is my fault. Do not turn this on me, because I am so livid with you, Ziva, that I don't know what to do. I don't know how to channel this anger without beating someone to a pulp, so don't you dare use that tone."

She blinked in shock and ran an angry hand through her hair because she didn't know what to say.

When he spoke again, his voice was heavy with raw anger and tinged with fear. "How could you keep this from me?"

She exhaled, realizing all the reasons she had used to justify her actions to herself sounded ridiculous. "I do not know."

"You don't _know_?" Tony thundered. "Ziva, this is different from… he's been waiting for nine years!"

"I am not a child, Tony!" she shot back. "I am not helpless, I should not need protecting. You should not constantly be in the line of fire because you had the misfortune of being assigned my partner!"

"Yea, I know you're not helpless, Zi. You're a fucking superhero. How could I forget?" Tony shouted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"That is not what this is about!" Ziva slammed her hand into the stall next to her sink. "You could have died if you hadn't been lucky with Michael, and I am shocked that any of us survived Somalia and if you get in his way, he will kill you, and I do not know what I would do."

Tony's face went through a number of expressions before he stormed to the door, closed his hand around the knob and started opening it and pulling it shut as hard as he could. After ten or eleven good slams, he turned back to Ziva.

"That's exactly how I feel! You said it yourself, you're not the same person you were nine years ago! You're still a bad ass, but you have feelings now, Ziva. Your training model changed!"

It was Ziva's turn to snort. "You _have_ been talking to my father."

"I am _not_ your father!" Tony thundered. "I like you like this, which is why I'd like to keep you alive! You're so damn concerned about being the one who gets me in trouble? You forgot to turn the tables. Think about what I'll do if I let you end up like this girl!"

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the photos he printed from Eli's email, strode to her and starting slamming them on the counter next to where she sat. "Think about the way I would feel if he did this to you, and I knew that I let him touch you, that I didn't handcuff you to me and hide you somewhere!"

He was frantic now, and her anger was dissolving and quickly being replaced with guilt. She reached her hand toward him but he jerked away. "You don't know what you would do?" he repeated, a bitter laugh void of humor escaping his lips again. "Think about what I'd have to do."

He started pacing the length of the bathroom. "Sorry Abby and Ducky. Ziva was kidnapped by the terrorist. He raped her and tortured her within an inch of her life over and over until it finally ended sixteen days later. Yea, I know I'm supposed to have her back, but I couldn't be bothered to find out why every intuition I posses was telling me something was wrong," he came back to the counter, "until she was mutilated like the girl in this photo! That's on me." He shouted.

"I... I do not know what I could possibly say." Ziva murmured. Tony looked up at her, fear, anger and something else mixing in his eyes. He started pacing again, walking away from Ziva and back toward her. He did six or seven laps before Ziva reached out and caught and his wrist. Tony turned, slowly, facing her.

He stood, she sat, his eyes blazing, her eyes guilty, one of her hands still holding one of his by the wrist, neither of them sure what was coming next.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: WOW. The response to the last chapter was amazing, and we were thrilled! Thanks to all who reviewed! Keep it up!**

There was too much that Ziva wanted to say and too little that she knew how to. As she struggled to find the right words, to find something that might make him stop looking at her like that, Tony wrenched his arm from her grasp and backed toward the door.

"Tony, please." Ziva said softly, defeated. Her anger was gone, and with it went her arsenal. She had nothing left to throw at him. "We should talk about this."

"I _can't_ right now Ziva!" He stormed back to where she sat; picked up the photos he had shown her and thrust them toward her. "I can't look at you without picturing you looking like this, and I really need that out of my head, so no, right now, we should not talk about this!"

He may have been mad as all hell, but nothing short of an explosion was going to send Tony out of that house if she was still inside. Still, the thought of going downstairs and facing anyone was almost as out of the question, so he stormed up to the roof, and left her to be the one to explain the shouting and slamming of doors.

Ziva stayed on the counter in the men's room just long enough to go over the battle that had just happened and wonder how things had changed so drastically in one night when Gibbs opened the door.

"That probably could have gone better Ziver." He said, using her old nickname to comfort her, and surprising her when it worked. "And you two usually do so well in the men's room."

She dropped her eyes to the floor and began studying the tiles. "I am not sure how to fix this." She admitted. "I have never seen him this angry."

"Hey," Gibbs said, walking over and nudging her, "He's not angry Ziva."

She looked up at him incredulously. "Do not tell me your hearing is going." She quipped with a small smile.

"He's a little angry," Gibbs conceded, putting a hand on Ziva's shoulder, "But he's mostly scared. Not something he handles too well."

"I know I should have told him. He is my partner, and I should have told him, but I do not like discussing my father or Mossad. I do not want to see the pitying look I get from everyone else come from Tony."

"He's more than your partner Ziva." Gibbs said quietly, ignoring everything else she said because he knew she already had the answers to those questions.

She nodded, even though what he said was purely a statement; there was no question or doubt in his voice. "He told you?" she asked. Gibbs wasn't fooled; her voice was even, but her eyes told him everything was hanging on that question.

"He didn't exactly have to, but he did anyway. Apparently, you're heading somewhere serious. And I can't stop you."

That coaxed a real smile out of her. "And he is still alive?" she asked.

Gibbs gave her a mock head slap, his hand barely connecting with her hair. "Give me some credit David. I wasn't surprised to hear him say it. He changed for you Ziva."

"He went to the end of the earth for me." She murmured more to herself than to Gibbs.

"You think he would have done that for anyone else? Trust him, Ziva. Because you two only get one chance to bend the rules. Don't screw it up."

Ziva pushed herself from the counter. "Thank you Gibbs." She said. He jerked his head toward the door, and watched it close as she left. He smiled and found himself thinking of Jenny. He had taught her the rules, but she had taught him the lesson that allowed him to do what he had just done for Tony and Ziva.

_Some rules are, simply and inevitably, made to be broken, Jethro._

* * *

Tony was immensely grateful for one thing right now, and that was the strange architecture of their borrowed building. Half of the roof was open, and the other half was another floor, providing him with something to lean against. No, slump against. Because if there was ever a time for slumping, this was it.

He was expecting her before she appeared, he wasn't expecting her to take his breath away when she did. She looked positively ethereal in the moonlight, surrounded by inky black sky. She sat next to him, close enough for their arms to brush like she always did.

And there they sat side by side, staring at the sky, neither of them speaking.

"I hate rooftops." Tony finally said. In his experience, nothing good ever happened on rooftops. You fall off of them, or you jump, or you watch your partner get shot by someone who turns out to be the half brother of the focal point of your life.

She remained silent for awhile before sighing in resolution. "I am sorry, Tony."

He twisted slightly to look at her, missing the glaring, white hot anger he felt earlier. It was an easier emotion to confront than the all consuming fear slowly spreading through his entire body. He looked down, and sensing an opportunity, Ziva turned toward him and placed a hand on his cheek. After a few seconds of stillness, Tony lifted his gaze to meet hers, and Ziva swore she could feel the tugging of her heartstrings when she saw unshed tears in his eyes.

Without thinking, Ziva wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her, and somewhere in the fluidity of her movements, he reciprocated, slipping his arms into her embrace and leaning against her. They were a car that couldn't start, an engine that almost roared to life before dying again in the way they started talking, and then froze so much they couldn't move.

It was unclear how long they sat there, wrapped in each other, Tony's head against Ziva's chest. He listened to her heartbeat, the constant reminder that she was here and she was safe. What could have been hours or minutes later, he finally spoke.

"I am so scared." He muttered. He moved his arms out from around her and shifted out of her embrace, but as he leaned against the wall again, he moved himself so close to her that his shoulder was practically behind hers. "Even in Africa," he started, feeling her tense at the words, "I was never this scared."

"I am not going anywhere Tony." She said, moving her hand next to his so their fingers were touching. She almost took his hand but thought better of it; they weren't out of the woods yet, so to speak.

"You can't control that." He replied in a tenset voice, trying to control the tightening in his chest and the rising panic that threatened to form a lump in his throat and more tears in his eyes. "I know you don't like to be anything but invincible and invulnerable but you're not. I know how good you are, Zi, but no one is infallible."

She had nothing to say to that. She knew it was true; even when she was trained to behave like she would live forever, to take big risks for big rewards, she had known that. In her former life, it was a comfort of sorts, and certainly an excuse. There was no need to get too attached, to get involved in anything complicated, because life could end in the blink of an eye.

Next to her, Tony shook his head. "No." he said out loud, straightening his back enough so he could look down at her. "No. We're not doing this anymore, Ziva. No more silence, no more secrets, and no more lies. Both of us. From now on I want to know everything."

He didn't specify the context of his demands, but it was clear to both of them he wasn't just talking about Varnaz. Tony held her gaze and continued. "I'm tired of pretending," he murmured, repeating something she'd always questioned the meaning behind. "Tell me everything."

"Give me a moment." Ziva said. Tony looked at her sharply, wondering if she listened to anything he just said. She saw the blend of emotions playing across his eyes and face and summoned her courage. _Fall_, she told herself. _Fall and he'll catch you. _"I feel as though the world just skidded to a halt." She admitted.

Tony looked surprised, but recovered quickly. He slid a few fingers over hers, urging her to continue. "I have never been in a real relationship before, at least not like I want this to be and…"

Tony nodded, stopping her. "I get it. Me neither." He paused. "But I'm not backing down. We're not going to keep doing this." It was the thing that killed them each time. The secrets, the fear of letting down, of driving away.

"I know I should have told you earlier, but Tony, what did you want me to say? I'm terrified of what Varnaz Terizan is capable of, but please don't change the way you look at me or behave toward me?"

Tony considered saying he wouldn't have, but she was on a roll now. "Let me tell you about the mission that destroyed my relationship with my father? Hey, DiNozzo, want to discuss the only thing that might be worse than Somalia? Or perhaps, would you like to know something that will distract us from preventing a terrorist attack?"

He laced his fingers through hers now and squeezed. He wasn't a hand holder, and he'd bet all the money in Varnaz's bank account that she wasn't either, but this moment called for it. In that gesture, she felt like he was reassuring her that she could, and should, trust him.

"My father thinks I only found out the details of that mission recently, but I knew all along. He was Deputy Director then, and removing me caused the mission to fail. I had surprising success gathering information but after my departure, there was nothing."

Tony separated their hands and put that arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him this time. To Ziva's surprise, she actually felt safe.

"Removing his daughter from a mission on track to be successful almost cost my father the directorship of Mossad." She said flatly. "He acted like a parent protecting a child, and he was punished for it. And that was the last time he behaved like a father. After that, he saw me as a soldier, and I always thought that if I was good enough, strong enough to protect myself, he wouldn't worry about me anymore."

Tony felt her leaning closer into him, but to his surprise she wasn't tense or on alert. She actually seemed to relax as he pulled her closer.

"I was naive enough to convince myself that if he didn't worry, I'd be his daughter again. I only succeeded in being the most effective weapon in his arsenal. The sharp end of the spear, he called it. But still just a soldier."

"I wish I could erase all of that." Tony said after awhile, meaning it more than he meant anything else in his life.

"In a way, you are." She told him. Five words that put everything in perspective for Tony. Any doubts that may have been lingering in his subconscious disappeared; this was right. "You saved me, after all. And not just from…_him_," she said, referring to Saleem, "But from Mossad as well."

"I always wondered." Tony admitted as she drew her legs to her chest. "Where was your father was while you were…" he swallowed hard, "In Somalia."

"Now you know. In Israel, lamenting the loss of one spear. Probably sharpening another." He detected a little sadness in her voice, but not bitterness. Anger rose in Tony again, this time towards Eli. Right. Eli.

Ziva was surprised when he gave a slight chuckle. "I said some things to your father I doubt he was too pleased with."

In spite of herself, she smiled, picturing Tony facing off against Eli, and unloading on him the way DiNozzos did when they got angry. "He already does not like you. I do not think you could have made it much worse."

Tony had started saying something about meeting the parents when she interrupted him. "Since we are being honest there is something else I need to say."

His calm nod was a ruse to keep her comfortable as every fiber of Tony's being erupted with hope.

"You said something to me. In Somalia. And last year, things were…" she trailed off. Giving herself a mental kick in the ass, she forged ahead. After all, Tony had gone there with her, even if he was pretending it was a movie.

Deep brown met bright blue as their eyes locked, and Ziva gave herself the final push from solid ground to an Anthony DiNozzo induced free fall. "I can not live without you either. And I do not want to try."

She stopped, wondering if she would end up crashing into the ground after all when a heart stopping, life changing grin spread across his face. In contrast to the anger, apprehension, and sadness that had plagued his features tonight, Ziva swore that grin was the biggest and most genuine she'd ever seen.

"DiNozzo, rule number one." He said, sounding slightly dreamy, and a little dazed. Ziva chuckled as he amended himself. "No, rule number two."

"What is?"

"Always take the bad news first. I used to be the other way around, but as of this moment, I've decided the best news always comes after bad news."

"And DiNozzo rule number one?" she inquired.

"Never give up on who you love. And never let them go." He said, serious again, his eyes boring into hers.

"I think that is David rule number one as well." She whispered. She wanted to kiss him, she wanted to slowly undress him right here and let him make love to her under the stars, because unless she was confusing her English, Ziva was quite certain he just implied he loved her. And she had implied right back. It was an unconventional way of saying it, but it was _them_.

The chain of events that got them to this moment re-entered her mind and she knew instantly that no matter how much she wanted to, this was a bad time for either of them to undress. It was still unclear what she was expected to be to Varnaz and she didn't want to taint things with Tony.

"I am not a fan of the state of the relationship discussion." Ziva declared suddenly, earning a smile from Tony.

"This may shock you, Zeevah, but neither am I."

"I am walled." She shot back sarcastically.

Tony blinked twice. Whatever she was trying to say she really mangled it. Finally it clicked. "Floored. You're floored, not walled."

She scrunched her nose the way she always did when she made mental notes of the mistake and tried fleetingly to work out how the correct expression made any sense at all, and Tony couldn't help laughing. He dropped a kiss to her head and she spoke again.

"Perhaps we will need to discuss the details when we get home, but for now, all I need to say is that this is real, and it is serious,"

Tony cut her off. "This is…it. For me anyway."

"Which is why I don't want to…_celebrate_ it yet." Her lips twisted into a smirk, and Tony frowned.

"Please tell me that's a breakdown of your English skills."

"We are still undercover. I don't want…" she trailed off. "I would obviously prefer that…" Tony smiled watching her struggle for the words for once before shaking his head.

"You're going to be the death of me, David." He said. To prove that point, Ziva tilted her head up and kissed him, a long, intense kiss that spoke volumes to Tony. That was a great kiss, and it came with a promise.

His hand slid into her hair and she pushed him back against the wall without breaking the kiss. She pulled back just long enough to swing one leg over his lap to straddle him before crushing their lips together again. Tony's hand slid quickly to her hips, pulling her closer to him, and she kissed him for a few more minutes before pulling back and leaning her forehead against his breathlessly.

"See what I mean?" Tony asked. "The death of me."

"Are you complaining?" Ziva asked, pulling back to reveal the teasing smirk on her face.

Tony kissed her forehead, her nose and her lips. "Wouldn't have it any other way." He looked around, remembering where they were. "Eventually we should talk about you overcoming your outdoor fetish and move this inside."

She ignored him and stood up, watching him as he followed suit. "Do you still hate rooftops Tony?" she quipped.

He rubbed his chin in an exaggerated pondering gesture. "Hm. I don't think I hate them anymore, but I would advise caution when venturing on one. You never know when you're going to suddenly get over your paralyzing fear of commitment, or get accosted by some crazy Israeli chick with impulse issues."

"Your commitment phobia is no longer paralyzing?" Ziva asked, pretending to be impressed.

"Not anymore. At least not from the waist down." Tony shot back wriggling his eyebrows at her. Ziva snorted and threw a light punch at his arm.

Tony gazed at her, practically enraptured. That was one of the things he appreciated most about Ziva. He could joke about the serious stuff and she took it as just that, a joke. In a way, he thought it was easier for her too, a light approach to the serious stuff. She wasn't the Jeanne type who used any and every opportunity she could find to start a serious discussion.

If commitment was this, trusting each other's feelings without talking them to death, and punches that didn't leave bruises, he was quickly going to forget why he was so resistant to it in the first place.

* * *

Gibbs sent McGee and Sacks out for coffee. Normally, this wouldn't surprise McGee, and he wouldn't even mind. But tonight, he was confused. He had no idea what was going on, why Tony and Ziva were shouting, or why it had suddenly stopped.

"Boss it's almost midnight," McGee blurted out. "Isn't a little late for coffee?" His curiosity was rewarded with the Gibbs stare. "I mean, uh, even for you?"

"We're all going to need coffee, McGee. That's why you're taking Agent Sacks. By the time those two knuckleheads sort themselves out, Ziva will have come up with a plan."

"How do you know?" McGee asked. Another Gibbs stare, with a touch more _are you really asking this question_ thrown in this time.

"Right," McGee continued hastily. "You're Gibbs, you always know, we're going for coffee now. Six coffees."

"And snacks!" Fornell called after them before turning to Gibbs and crossing his arms over his chest. "What the hell was that Jethro?" he said, pointing above his head to indicate Tony and Ziva.

"Minor disagreement." Gibbs said with a shrug.

Fornell rolled his eyes. "Minor disagreement? That was a battle, Gibbs. That made the worst fight you ever had with my ex-wife look like a minor disagreement."

"_My_ ex-wife," Gibbs corrected. "And they're working it out."

"You're sure?" Fornell pressed. "It's been a while."

"I'm sure, Tobias. They haven't invested this time waiting just to screw it up as soon as they have permission."

"You gave them permission to what? To date? Geez, Gibbs, you gonna let DiNozzo borrow the car to take her for milkshakes after the sockhop?" Fornell asked with a smirk.

Gibbs chuckled to himself. "It's DiNozzo and David. They're not dating. Not in the conventional sense anyway."

"So they got around a Leroy Jethro Gibbs rule to be what exactly?" Fornell asked.

Gibbs shrugged again, uncomfortably this time. "DiNozzo and David!" he exclaimed, exasperated, as if Fornell should have known that already.

"Mr. and Mrs, Dinutso." Fornell muttered to himself. He narrowed his eyes. "They better show some restraint making up, Gibbs. If they fight that loud, I can't imagine how loud they-"

"Fornell!" Gibbs exclaimed, cutting him off. Tobias laughed and shook his head.

"Sorry. Couldn't resist."

"Resist next time." Gibbs advised sternly. He was going to add something about firing them both if anyone heard anything ever, but he was cut off by the unmistakable sound of machine gun fire. Coming from above them.

* * *

They were still standing up there. Starry skies, warm tropical air and blanketing darkness have a way of captivating you, especially if you've just gotten the one thing you really wanted. Tony's eye caught movement on a nearby roof. A few figures were moving around, which wouldn't have been so alarming if something wasn't simultaneously setting off his inner alarm bells.

He turned slowly to the roof opposite the one four people had appeared on to see there were a few shadowy figures there as well. And he and Ziva were right in the middle of them. His arms reached around her waist and pulled her to the ground with him in the instant before machine gun fire shattered the tranquil evening.

"Why are you on top of me?" Ziva asked, winking. "Impressive reflexes." She commented easily.

"God, Ziva, talk about cool under fire." Tony observed. "Think they're shooting at us?"

"I doubt it," she said, "And I'm not sugar covering either. This looks more like a dispute between cartels than a hit."

"Sugarcoating." Tony said.

"What?" she asked looking confused.

"It's sugarcoating."

"That's what I said!" she argued.

"You said sugar covering." He smirked down at her, and she felt the urge to rip his clothes off.

"Are covering something and coating something not the same thing?" she insisted.

"Well, yea, but the expression is sugarcoating…" Tony trailed off and paused. "In the many times I've pictured being on top of you, not once were we talking semantics."

"Tony!" Ziva exclaimed. "Drug cartels, smuggled weapons… that is the answer!"

"You're leaving NCIS to go a crime spree?" Tony asked, sounding disappointed. "I thought we agreed on art heists."

"I have a plan!" Ziva said excitedly. She pressed a kiss to his lips and patted his cheek in her teasing way. "Get off of me will you?"

"That hurts Ziva."

"Just for now." She said with a wink as he shifted off of her, scanning the rooftops around them. Save for one body lying on the ground they were empty. "Although I will want my turn on top of you."

She started to sit up but he stopped her. "Stay down." He said quickly, thinking of Kate. "Please? I don't want to hate rooftops again." She nodded and crawled toward the door, with him behind her, enjoying the angle of her ass.

He gave a low whistle and grinned. "Hey Ziva? You can have as many turns on top as you want."

She responded by coughing loudly. Tony rose as he crossed the threshold of the door with a sinking feeling in his chest. "Of the pyramid we're going to build later." He said, knowing his face wasn't selling his lie as he looked at Gibbs and Fornell.

He reached behind him and gave his own head a generous smack. "Saved you the trouble there boss. Two groups, four to the south of us and three shooters on the other side. They fired a few rounds, one casualty. More likely the work of cartels than a hit." Tony said proudly.

"What else did Ziva tell you?" Gibbs asked dryly.

"That she has a plan, boss."

"Yea, I thought she might." Gibbs said. "Let's hear it, David."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Ugh, Sorry for the long delay in updating, but this chapter KILLED us. It went through multiple rewrites and then got shortened. We still hate it. And it's short. But consider it a transition. We're working on some more action, and hopefully will get back in the groove. The good news is we have a great idea for a new story, so keep your eyes open. **

**REVIEW? PLEEEEEASE?**

Time to spare was an almost unknown commodity when Leroy Jethro Gibbs was hunting down a terrorist, so Ziva was especially surprised when he pulled her aside coming down from the roof.

"You and I aren't finished yet, Ziva." He said softly, motioning for Tony and Fornell to continue on.

Ziva hovered uncomfortably on the highest level of the building, waiting for Gibbs to say something, but he just fixed her with a stare. And not the typical Gibbs stare, a different sort of look, a more inquisitive one.

"You should have come to me." He said finally. His tone washed a fresh wave of guilt over Ziva; he didn't sound angry, as much as hurt.

"I am sorry, Gibbs." She murmured, wincing at how inadequate the words sounded to her own ears. It was another in a long line of betrayals, and even though her intentions may have been good, she knew it was a mistake.

Gibbs stood silently, and Ziva realized he was waiting for her to explain herself. She almost uttered something inane until Tony's words echoed in her head. _We're not doing this anymore Ziva. No more silence, no more secrets, no more lies._ Maybe he was right; it changed things for her and Tony, why not her and everyone. Maybe she exacerbated problems by keeping them to herself.

"I did not want anyone to know," she admitted, "I did not want Tony to know I spent months sleeping with Terzian and waking up in his bed. I did not want to see the pitying look on McGee's face as I explained what this mission did to my father and I…" she trailed off and took a deep breath.

"Ziva," Gibbs started, but she cut him off.

"I was in over my head." She blurted out. "I was doing well as far as intelligence was concerned, but Terzian is…"

"He's a psychopath." Gibbs said simply. "And you were young. He scared you?" he guessed.

Ziva nodded. "I still think, sometimes, what could have happened if my father had not ended my role so abruptly."

"I talked to Director Vance," Gibbs said calmly, "And he told me that your father almost lost the top job because of that mission."

Ziva inhaled sharply. "He chose to lose me instead." She whispered, looking down as her eyes welled. "He simply stopped acting like a father." Her voice threatened to break, so she stopped talking, hoping Gibbs would fill the silence, but of course, he just waited.

"And I played right into his hand." She continued, a humorless chortle escaping her mouth. "If I was invincible, if I never made mistakes, he would be able to see me as family again." She didn't say anything else, because Gibbs knew how that story went.

"He had already lost my sister. What kind of man throws away another daughter?" she wondered, more to herself than Gibbs.

She met his eyes again. "I did not tell you because it is still difficult for me to show vulnerability to you, because-"

_You're a better father than he ever was, _she was going to say. Instead Gibbs stopped her by nodding.

"I know, Ziva." He said simply. "But you get to choose your own life now. You get to define your relationships, and you don't have to be afraid to lose the people you love anymore."

She nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat, determined not to cry on top of everything else. Instead, impulsively she wrapped her arms around Gibbs in a quick hug.

"Oh, hell, Ziva." He said, his tone as jocular as it got. "Don't go all Abby on me now."

* * *

Gibbs sighed; it never ceased to amaze him how comfortable Tony and Ziva were with one another. In the last twenty four hours, they had a fight that rivaled his worst showdowns with any of his ex wives, apparently worked out their _relationship_, and instead of a touch of awkwardness or shyness, they continued their usual banter.

It was enough, Gibbs mused, to make him think maybe some people were suited for marriage. He paused outside the door to the room Tony had inhabited as their voices rose. They were five or six hours out from putting their plan into action and he had wanted to remind them of the key elements, but something stopped him outside the door.

"Perhaps you could try to look at least a little intimidating." Gibbs heard Ziva suggest.

Tony frowned. "Are you kidding? I look intimidating. I could do intimidating in my sleep."

Ziva rolled her eyes and sighed. "Shortly before coming to NCIS I received intelligence that an arms dealer selling to Hamas was in the backroom of a nightclub in Istanbul. I broke down the door wearing six inch heels and holding a nine millimeter in each hand. That was intimidating."

"Okay, so maybe I'm not intimidating to you…." Tony said immediately, before digesting her words. Gibbs was torn between amusement and exasperation at the pause, during which time his senior field agent was undoubtedly recreating the scene in his mind.

"Wait a nine mil in _each hand_?" Tony repeated. "Did you happen to catch this on video tape?"

Ziva's voice dropped. "No. But I could act it out for you if you would like." Gibbs heard her say something else in a husky whisper, and he was glad he couldn't make out what it was.

Gibbs heard a muffled, disgusted sound coming from McGee's room, separated from Tony's by only a door. "I liked you better when you were both miserable." He called through the wall. Gibbs bit back a chuckle.

"McGee finds me very intimidating." Tony said loudly.

"Do not." McGee shot back.

When Ziva spoke again, Gibbs could tell she was smiling. "Regardless of McGee's opinion, Terzian is not an idiot," she told him matter of factly, "And if he is going to believe that you, or Aaron, as the case may be, are going to help him smuggle _uranium_, you cannot march in there looking like…" She trailed off and Tony laughed. There was a brief silence and Gibbs was afraid for a moment that they were doing something he didn't want to know about when Tony spoke again.

"Let's go over it one more time." He said.

"Tony." Ziva replied, her voice serious now.

"One more time." He insisted. There was a long silence, and Gibbs could only imagine the battle that was raging silently between them.

"We show up at his usual hunt." Ziva started.

"Haunt. Usual haunt." Tony corrected.

"What did I say?" Ziva asked innocently. It was a pretty weak attempt to distract Tony, Gibbs thought, but he understood her intentions.

"He sees us…" Tony trailed off.

"Being us?" Ziva suggested helpfully.

"He's jealous, he's irrational. He goes looking for you, overhears an argument about the uranium, hopefully, we'll have riled him up enough to get him involved." Tony concluded.

"And you need to set it up so that he gets Lina as a piece of this deal," Ziva reminded him, choosing to refer to Lina as though they weren't one and the same. "None of it works if we can't get her at his house, overnight before the transaction is supposed to happen."

"Please don't, Zi." Tony said quietly.

"You know it would mean nothing to me." She whispered, suddenly wishing they hadn't agreed to be so honest.

Tony didn't say anything, but Gibbs heard the creaking of the bed as he sank down on the edge of it. The door was slightly ajar, and Gibbs watched their reflection in the window. Ziva kneeled on the bed behind Tony and placed her hands on his shoulders. He used her hands to pull her arms around him. With her weight against him, he seemed to relax.

"I hate this." He mumbled. She lifted their joined hands and absently traced her thumb over his lower lip.

"I know." She whispered.

Gibbs wanted to look away, to leave them in their moment, but the outcome of this conversation was suddenly very important. He wasn't going to send them in the field if they were going to make stupid decisions that put each other over their job.

"I think," Ziva began slowly, choosing her words carefully, "That a may be able to use a tactic I used in the past. I cannot drug him, because he only prepares his own drinks, but when he starts drinking, he does not know when to stop."

"You think you could get him to pass out?"

"Easily." She replied, a confidence in her voice Gibbs thought was genuine. "I will of course, be prepared for the alternative, and if I have to, I will. When I determine that he will not be waking up for several hours, I will let you in the side door off the kitchen, and we will search the study. I know where he keeps the key."

Tony nodded. "Fornell is borrowing another safe house. We get what we need; we get out, and head for that location. Gibbs said to wait three hours, change cars, and then come back here."

"Simple." Ziva said, her throat tight.

"Just once I'd like to send McGee and Abby undercover." Tony grumbled, standing up and starting to pace.

"Abby is not a trained agent." Ziva pointed out.

"Yea? Well neither were you the first time we went undercover." Tony shot back smiling in spite of himself at the memory. Ziva shot him a look. "Yea, I know," Tony conceded with a sigh, "I'm just tired of this."

Ziva rose, stepped toward him and put a hand on his cheek. "The world is not a safe place, Tony. Neither of us is safe, no matter how badly we want to protect each other. We do this in hopes that our children might be safe."

He nodded, and Gibbs felt a surge of pride. The overgrown frat brother he had first known in Tony had really become a man. He knew part of that (okay most of that) was Ziva. Any other woman mentioned children and Tony would be sprinting for the door, but he was unfazed when Ziva uttered the words.

"Are you scared?" Tony asked her.

"Of course I am." She replied honestly, surprising Tony and Gibbs with her openness. "But we need to do this."

* * *

Gibbs was striding down the stairs to sort out his mounting trepidation when Abby called.

"What's going on Abs?" he asked.

"Gibbs!" she exclaimed. "Thank God! I was trying to call and I couldn't get a hold of anyone, and I thought something terrible had happened. _Has_ something terrible happened?"

Gibbs chuckled. "We're fine, Abby." He said patiently.

"You're all fine," she repeated, "So it's true? You abolished rule number twelve?"

Gibbs sighed. Of course this is what she wanted. "One time only." He confirmed.

This admission was met squeals and an exclamation of delight from Abby so high pitched Gibbs had to hold the phone away from his ear. When she had calmed down, and they had discussed how Palmer had almost blown up autopsy, Gibbs asked Abby the question weighing on his mind.

"You ever hear Ziva admit she was scared?"

"Duh, of course not Gibbs!" Abby said, scolding him as though he should know better than to ask such a thing.

"Didn't think so." He replied.

"Why, have you?"

"First time a few minutes ago." He admitted.

"Well it's about time." Abby said. Gibbs waited, and without fail she continued speaking. "She wasn't scared when she thought she'd eventually go back to Mossad and die before she hit 40. Who would be? It's why she clung to that for so long. She had a free pass to live her life exactly how she wanted."

Abby paused, likely taking a pull from the straw in her Caf-Pow. "It's a lot harder not to show fear when you've got something to live for." She concluded. "Frankly I think it's healthier."

Gibbs considered this and nodded. "Thanks Abs."

"Here to counsel, El Jefe." She replied.


End file.
